REMINISCENCES   OF  A  VETERAN   CONDUCTOR. 


FORTY   YEARS  ON 
THE    RAIL. 


BY 


CHAKLES    B.    GEOEGE 


SECOND    EDITION. 


CHICAGO: 
R.  R.  DONNELLEY  &  SONS,  PUBLISHERS, 

1887. 


TF 
fir 

fff-7 


eXCHANQI 

COPYRIGHT 
BY  CHARLES  B.  GEORGE, 

1887. 


TO 

THE  CONDUCTORS  OP  THE  UNITED  STATES, 

AND 

OTHER  FRIENDS  IN  THE  RAILROAD  SERVICE, 

THIS  BOOK  IS 

RESPECTFULLY  DEDICATED 
BY 

THE  AUTHOR. 


M97081 


PREFACE 

In  preparing  these  pages  for  publication,  the 
author  has  not  attempted  to  give  a  complete  or 
consecutive  history  of  his  life  as  conductor  on 
the  railroad  during  the  past  forty  years,  for  that 
would  be  beyond  the  scope  of  a  simple  work  of 
this  kind.  On  a  thread  of  autobiography  he  has 
arranged  a  series  of  sketches,  drawn  from  his  own 
experiences  and  from  those  of  his  associates  in  the 
service,  dealing  with  all  subjects  from  the  stand- 
point of  a  railroad  man. 

Some  material  for  this  work  has  been  drawn 
from  the  literature  of  the  day,  especially  as  it 
appears  in  magazines  and  newspapers,  but  a  series 
of  memoranda,  kept  at  irregular  intervals  during 
the  past  four  decades,  has  been  chiefly  drawn  upon, 
as  have  also  letters  from  friends,  and  interviews 
with  those  who  shared  the  author's  experiences  in 
early  days.  Should  omissions  or  errors  be  noticed 
in  the  data  of  this  volume,  let  it  be  remembered 
that  the  writer  has  necessarily  largely  depended 
upon  his  memory  in  its  compilation. 

11 


12  FORTY  YEAKS  ON  THE  BAIL. 

Although  this  book  is  written  by  a  railroad  man 
and  is  dedicated  to  railroad  men,  it  is  hoped  and 
believed  that  the  general  public  will  find  herein  a 
fund  of  information  and  entertainment  that  will 
commend  it  to  all  classes  of  readers.  It  is  with  this 
in  view  that  the  author  gives  these  pages  to  the 

world 

C.  B.  GEORGE. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  I. 
THE  START  IN  LIFE,  -        -  17 

CHAPTER  II. 
EARLY  RAILROADING, .        27 

CHAPTER  III. 
A  MILE  A  MINUTE,  47 

CHAPTER  IV. 
REMINISCENCES  OF  OTHER  DAYS,  -  55 

CHAPTER  V. 
WESTWARD, 72 

CHAPTER  VI. 
IN  WAR  TIMES,  99 

CHAPTER  VII. 
FIGHTING  THE  ELEMENTS,   -  129 

CHAPTER  VIII. 
NOTED  PASSENGERS,  •  144 

CHAPTER  IX. 
RAILROAD   MEN,    -  164 

CHAPTER  X. 
"OLD    RELIABLE,"    -  195 

CHAPTER  XI. 
HUMAN  NATURE  ON  THE  RAIL, 211 

CHAPTER  XII 
RAILROADING  OF  TO-DAY, 242 


ILLUSTRATIONS. 


MY  BOYHOOD  HOME,   -  25 

THE  AUTHOR  FORTY  YEARS  AGO, 45 

THE    MEDFORD  TRAIN,  65 

THE  SNOW-PLOW  ADVENTURE, 85 

BOUND  FOR  BENNINGTON,   -  105 

OLD  COOK  STREET  DEPOT,   CHICAGO,   -----      125 

SNOWED  IN,   -        -  145 

THE  FARMER'S  ARGUMENT, 165 

HOXIE  AND  THE  TRAMP,    -  185 

THE  VESTIBULE  TRAIN, -        205 


FORTY  YEARS  ON  THE  RAIL, 


CHAPTER  ,Lvv  is;.;V  :;:  : 

THE    START    IN    LIFE. 

Early  in  1847  my  parents  died  and  I  was  left  alone 
in  the  world.  The  small  farm  in  Massachusetts  where 
I  was  born  and  where  I  passed  my  early  life,  fur- 
nished us  a  humble  living,  and  that  only  after  strict 
economy  and  hard  work.  New  England's  rocky  soil 
was  a  poor  field  for  getting  wealth,  and  my  father's 
life  was  that  of  other  farmers  of  those  days. 

Well  do  I  remember  our  cottage  home,  with  its 
slanting  roof,  low  ceilings  and  small  windows.  I  can 
see  it  to-day  as  plainly  as  I  did  when  I  was  a  lad 
living  within  its  walls.  The  big  fire-place  was  the 
favorite  spot  where  we  all  gathered  during'  the  long 
winter  evenings.  When  the  snow  was  piled  high 
outside  and  the  wind  whistled  about  the  corners 
of  the  house,  we  sat  before  the  blazing  logs  on  the 
hearth,  told  stories,  ate  apples,  popped  corn  and  drank 
cider.  My  good  mother  always  sat  near  with  her 
knitting-needles  clicking  busily.  Down  in  front  of 
2  17 


18  FORTY    YEARS    ON    THE    EAIL. 

the  house  I  can  still  see  the  old  fashioned  well-sweep 
and  the  moss-covered,  iron-bound  bucket.  Away  in 
the  distance  ran  the  Merrimac,  and  all  about,  the 
woods  and  Chills:  of:  New  England  lent  the  scene  a 
charm  I  little  appreciated  then,  but  which  often 
liave:  e&osiej  to:  tie  :iix  thought  since  I  bade  them  fare- 
well so  many  years  ago. 

Those  were  happy  days.  It  is  true  that  our  life 
was  simple^  but  our  tastes  were  in  harmony  with  our 
lot,  for  we  lived  as  our  friends  and  neighbors  did, 
and  into  the  midst  of  our  peaceful  community  had  not 
come  the  restlessness,  the  pursuit  of  worldly  pleasures, 
the  glitter  and  show  of  these  later  days.  Where 
no  one  possessed  great  wealth  and  was  not  sur- 
rounded by  luxury,  the  rest  of  the  community  was 
not  disturbed  by  any  striking  contrasts  or  disagreea- 
ble distinctions.  We  had  our  simple  pleasures  and 
recreations  that  were  varied  with  the  seasons.  The 
Fourth  of  July  was  a  great  day  to  us,  of  course, 
*nd  we  had,  in  the  autumn  and  winter,  husking-bees, 
dancing  parties,  and  sleigh  rides  to  our  heart's  con- 
tent. I  never  thought  much  of  the  great  future  in 
those  days  ;  my  mind  was  busy  with  its  surroundings. 

My  mother's  gentle  ways  and  quiet  industry 
made  our  humble  home  a  place  of  rest  for  all,  and, 
until  my  parents  died,  life  went  on  quietly  for  me 
amid  the  dull  routine  of  farm  duties.  My  educational 


THE    STAET    IN    LIFE.  19 

advantages  were  such  as  the  country  schools  gave  me. 
Only  three  months  of  the  year  were  allowed  me 
for  going  to  school ;  the  duties  of  helping  to  support 
the  family  having  fallen  to  my  lot  very  early  in  life. 

I  had  always  been  a  diligent  boy.  Indeed,  there 
was  little  chance  to  be  otherwise.  In  those  days 
everybody  worked,  and  industry  was  taught  us  from 
morning  till  night  both  by  example  and  precept. 
When  not  needed  at  home  I  helped  the  neighboring 
farmers,  receiving  as  compensation  only  nine  pence  a 
day,  or  twelve  and  a  half  cents  in  our  present  money. 
At  odd  times  I  did  work  on  shoes,  "  closing "  them, 
as  we  used  to  call  the  process  of  sewing  the  parts 
together  with  waxed  ends.  Haverhill  was  largely 
occupied  in  the  same  industry.  It  was  before  the 
days  of  complicated  machinery  for  manufacturing 
purposes,  and  nearly  every  cottage  in  our  village 
contained  one  or  more  persons  engaged  in  doing 
some  branch  of  shoe-making. 

When  at  seventeen  years  of  age  I  was  thrown 
upon  my  own  resources,  I  found  myself  poorly  pre- 
pared to  face  the  great  world.  By  being  very  careful 
of  my  earnings,  I  had  saved  eight  dollars,  and  with 
this  I  was  to  begin  a  new  career.  After  my  parents 
were  laid  to  rest,  and  all  had  been  done  for  them 
that  loving  hands  could  do,  I  began  to  consider  my 
future.  A  good,  kind-hearted  woman,  Mrs.  Tibbitts, 


20  FOKTY  YEAKS  ON  THE  RAIL. 

took  me  to  her  home  to  stay  a  couple  of  weeks, 
until  I  could  settle  upon  some  definite  plan.  Her 
motherly  ways  and  her  Christian  counsel  cheered  me 
in  those  lonely  hours,  and  I  look  back  to  her  to-day 
with  gratitude  for  her  kindness  to  me  in  my  day  of 
need.  Many  friends  came  to  give  me  advice. 

"Keep  the  old  farm,  Charley,"  said  one  old 
gentleman.  "Your  father  made  a  living  there,  and 
why  not  you?" 

But  the  farm  had  only  been  rented  by  my 
father,  and  now  that  the  old  home  was  empty,  I  had 
not  the  heart  to  stay  there.  Besides,  farming  was  not 
to  my  taste,  now  that  I  was  free  to  make  my  choice. 

"How  would  you  like  clerking  in  our  store?" 
another  suggested. 

The  salary  of  a  clerk  in  a  country  store  was  not 
a  temptation,  even  to  me  with  my  modest  ideas. 

One  day  I  met  Mr.  Taggart,  a  lawyer  of  the  town, 
and  he  asked  me  why  I  did  not  study  law.  "If  you 
\vill  come  to  my  office,"  he  said  to  me  kindly,  "I 
will  do  my  best  to  help  you  in  your  studies  and 
make  a  lawyer  of  you  as  soon  as  possible."  The 
question  of  board  and  clothes  then  presented  itself, 
and  I  gave  up  all  idea  of  going  into  the  law  office. 

The  various  counsels  of  friends  and  the  failure  of 
each  to  satisfy  my  desires,  did  not  discourage  me. 
To  the  young  all  things  are  possible,  and  with  a 


THE  START  IN  LIFE.  2l 

rugged  constitution  backed  by  a  willing  heart,  I 
knew  I  could  make  life  worth  living. 

Haverhill,  my  native  town,  is  thirty  miles  from 
Boston,  and  to  our  quiet  home  enough  news  of  the  city 
had  reached  us  to  make  me  feel  that  I  had  a  better 
chance  to  make  my  mark  there  than  in  the  country, 
where,  to  tell  the  truth,  I  had  already  begun  to  feel 
tired  of  my  humdrum  life. 

"I'll  go  to  Boston,"  I  said  to  myself  one  day,  after 
studying  over  every  plan  I  could  think  of,  or  the 
neighbors  could  suggest.  "  Surely  I'll  find  some- 
thing to  do  there  ;  at  any  rate,  I'll  chance  it.  I'll 
make  the  world  pay  me  the  living  it  owes  me." 

So,  with  my  hard-earned  capital,  arid  with  the 
best  wishes  of  friends,  I  started  for  the  metropolis. 

Kind  Mrs.  Tibbitts  had  mended  my  clothes  and 
packed  my  little  trunk,  putting  in  odds  and  ends  of 
things  that  only  a  mother  knows  her  boy  will  want, 
and  which  I  found  most  acceptable  in  the  trying  days 
that  followed. 

A  tall,  lanky  youth  I  was;  dressed  in  badly  fitting 
clothes  which  I  had  outgrown,  the  trousers  being  so 
short  that  they  showed  off  to  advantage  my  coarse 
cow-hide  boots.  But,  I  was  busy  thinking  of  what 
the  great  future  was  to  bring,  and  I  cared  not  a  whit 
for  all  that. 

Well  do  I  remember  the  train  as  it  came  puffing 


22  FORTY  YEARS  ON  THE  RAIL. 

along  toward  Haverhill  station,  with  cinders  and 
smoke  filling  the  fresh  country  air,  and  the  little 
sa wed-off  cars  jolting  along  the  uneven  track.  It  was 
a  great  sight  to  me,  and  as  I  stepped  aboard  my  heart 
beat  wildly  at  the  new  experience.  I  timidly  got  into 
the  car,  and  sat  in  the  end  seat.  I  knew  that  to  pay 
full  fare  would  make  a  great  hole  in  my  money,  so  I 
drew  myself  into  as  small  a  compass  as  possible, 
hoping  to  look  very  young  to  the  vigilant  official  eye. 
Ansel  Tucker  was  the  conductor,  and  when  he  came 
up  to  me  I  timidly  asked  him  if  he  would  take  me  for 
half  fare. 

"  Where  are  you  going,  my  lad?  "  he  said  kindly. 

"  To  Boston,  sir." 

"  Well,  you're  a  pretty  good  chunk  of  a  boy  to  be 
riding  for  half,  but  you  look  as  if  you  were  made  of 
the  right  stuff,  and  I  guess  I  will  have  to  let  you  go." 

My  courage  rose  at  this  first  success  and  with  a 
lighter  heart  I  continued  my  journey,  my  mind  being 
kept  busy  with  the  novelty  of  the  ride,  and  with 
planning  for  my  future." 

When  I  landed  in  Boston,  I  found  a  place  where  I 
could  lodge  at  ten  cents  a  night,  and  I  took  my  meals 
wherever  I  could  get  food  cheapest.  Many  an  hour  I 
went  hungry,  and  then,  with  a  piece  of  pie  or  a  couple 
of  doughnuts,  which  I  could  buy  for  five  cents,  I 
made  a  scanty  meal.  I  had  a  lonely  time  of  it,  too, 


THE   START   IN   LltfE.  2 

for  I  did  not  see  a  familiar  face  from  one  day's  end  to 
the  other,  and  I  greatly  missed  the  friendly  and 
encouraging  words  I  had  been  accustomed  to  in  old 
Haverhill. 

Day  after  day  I  walked  the  streets,  asking  for 
work.  My  idea  was  to  learn  a  good  trade,  but  those 
were  dull  times  and  labor  was  not  in  demand.  Often 
I  grew  discouraged,  but  a  good  night's  sleep  or  some- 
thing to  eat  always  revived  my  spirits.  Then,  to  the 
country  boy  who  had  never  gone  very  far  beyond  his 
native  village,  the  busy  city  was  filled  with  wonders 
that  made  me  forget  my  trials.  Many  a  time,  after 
refusals  from  those  to  whom  I  applied  for  work,  when 
I  was  tired  and  heartsick,  I  sat  down  in  the  old 
Boston  Common,  and  while  looking  at  the  sights 
there  1  forgot  my  misery  till  I  got  rested,  ready  to 
start  on  a  new  search. 

My  money  was  gradually  melting  away  and  my 
enthusiasm  was  on  the  wane,  when  one  day  I  ran 
across  Charles  Minot,  who  had  known  me  when  he 
was  practicing  law  in  Haverhill.  At  the  time  I  speak 
of,  he  was  superintendent  of  the  Boston  and  Maine 
railroad,  and  was  known  as  one  of  the  most  capable 
and  progressive  men  in  the  State. 

"  Hello,  Charley,"  was  his  greeting.  "  When  did 
you  leave  Haverhill?  What  are  you  here  for?  " 

"Looking  for  something  to  do,"  I  answered 
gloomily. 


24  FOETY   YEARS   ON  THE  BAIL. 

"  What  have  you  tried  to  get  ?  " 

"To  learn  almost  any  trade,  and  I'm  tired  asking 
for  a  place." 

"  Got  any  money?  " 

"  Not  very  much." 

"  Cheer  up,  my  boy,  there's  plenty  of  chance  for 
you  here,"  he  said  cheerily,  slipping  a  five  dollar  bill 
into  my  hand. 

"So  you  have  tried  about  everything,  have  you?" 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"How  would  you  like  to  be  a  railroad  man?"  he 
said,  after  a  slight  pause. 

"Like  it?  "  I  echoed,  eagerly  jumping  at  the  idea. 
"Like  it?  Just  give  me  a  chance,  sir." 

As  a  result  of  our  meeting,  after  a  few  days  I 
became  baggage-master  of  the  train  to  Medford,  about 
five  miles  out  of  Boston.  "We  had  a  small  cabless 
engine,  weighing  about  five  tons,  and  the  train  was 
made  up  of  a  single  car,  which  was  baggage  and 
passenger  car  combined.*  This  little  train  was  in 
charge  of  John  Sanborn,  conductor,  and  Joe  Seavey, 
engineer.  To  start  with,  I  worked  at  seventeen 
dollars  a  month,  which  seemed  almost  a  princely  sum 
to  the  poor  boy,  who  but  a  few  days  before  had  been 
walking  about  the  streets  homeless  and  almost  penni- 
less. In  four  or  five  months,  my  work  proving  satis- 
factory to  all,  my  salary  was  raised,  and  when  I  then 


THE  STAR*   Itf   LltfE. 


MY  BOYHOOD  HOME.— Page  17 


drew  thirty-five  dollars  for  a 
month's  pay,  I  felt  richer 
than  I  ever  did  afterward. 

Forty  years  have  passed 
since  my  accidental  meeting 
with  Charles  Minot  on  the 
streets  of  Boston,  when  a 
few  words  changed  the  whole 
bent  of  my  thought,  and  the 
aimless  wanderer  began  a 
life  work.  It  is  by  chance 

that  many  a  career   is  thus  begun.       Indeed,  rarely 
does    a    life    follow    out    a    carefully    arranged    plan, 


26  FORTY  YEARS  ON  THE  RAIL. 

but  step  by  step  fortune  leads  us  on,  and  we  must 
follow  her  bidding.  Little  did  I  think  when  I 
boarded  the  train  in  old  Haverhill,  that  that  short  trip 
was  the  beginning  of  the  vast  aggregate  of  travel 
which  I  have  made  in  forty  years,  an  aggregate 
amounting  to  over  two  million,  four  hundred  thousand 
miles,  or  nearly  one  hundred  times  around  the  globe. 


CHAPTEK  II. 

EARLY    RAILROADING. 

At  the  request  of  Ansel  Tucker,  the  conductor  with 
whom  I  had  taken  my  first  ride,  I  left  the  Medford 
train  to  go  with  him  on  the  Portland  run.  Besides 
Mr,  Tucker,  the  conductors  on  the  road  were  Elbridge 
Wood,  John  Sanborn,  Joe  Smith,  J.  B.  Wadleigh, 
Carter  Thompson,  Dennis  Smart  and  Charles  Hall. 
The  Boston  and  Maine  road  was  thought  a  wonderful 
through  line  forty  years  ago,  though  it  was  only  one 
hundred  and  eleven  miles  long. 

My  work  on  the  Portland  train  was  heavy  and 
fatiguing.  In  those  days  the  baggage-master  had  to 
take  a  turn  at  the  brakes  as  often  as  the  brakeman, 
and  had  to  keep  his  own  car  clean,  inside  and  out,  as 
car  cleaners  were  then  unknown.  The  wheels  had  to 
be  wiped  with  waste,  which  was  no  small  task, 
splashed  as  they  were  with  whale  oil,  the  only  kind 
then  in  use  for  such  purposes.  Part  of  the  baggage- 
man's equipment  was  a  long-nosed  oil-can,  from 
which  we  had  to  oil  the  wheels  at  nearly  every 
station. 

27 


28       FORTY  YEARS  ON  THE  RAIL* 

In  those  days  railroading  had  only  fairly  started 
on  its  career.  Our  trains  would  be  laughed  at  by  the 
present  generation,  so  accustomed  to  more  scientific 
methods.  I  cannot  myself  go  back  to  Stevenson  and 
the  "Eocket,"  but  the  improvements  in  my  time  have 
been  no  less  marvelous  than  was  the  building  of  that 
pioneer  locomotive.  The  "Eocket"  ran  her  first  trip 
from  Manchester  to  Liverpool  when  I  was  only  seven 
months  old.  It  weighed  four  tons  and  a  quarter  and, 
like  most  inventions  that  have  revolutionized  the 
world,  it  excited  more  ridicule  than  praise.  •  The  wise 
men  of  that  day  scoffed  at  the  idea  of  an  engine 
drawing  cars.  "  The  drive-wheels  will  slip,"  was 
their  crushing  argument.  Yet  even  the  "  Eocket," 
small  as  she  was,  ran  at  the  rate  of  over  thirty  miles 
an  hour. 

The  first  iron  road  in  the  United  States  was  the 
Granite  railroad  at  Quincy,  Massachusetts,  built  to 
draw  stone  for  Bunker  Hill  Monument.  It  was  run  by 
horse  power.  Not  until  1829  was  the  first  locomotive 
brought  over  from  England.  About  that  time  Peter 
Cooper  constructed  the  "  Tom  Thumb,"  the  first 
locomotive  ever  made  in  America,  but  it  was  very 
small  and  was  only  made  to  show  what  could  be  done. 

Several  different  railroads  contend  for  the  honor  of 
having  first  used  steam  locomotives  in  this  country, 
for  regular  service;  but  the  preponderance  of  evidence 


EARLY    RAILROADING.  29 

is  in  favor  of  the  road  running  from  Charleston  to 
Hamburg,  South  Carolina.  That  was  the  first  built 
in  America,  with  a  view  to  using  steam  instead  of 
animal  power.  It  was  also  the  first  to  carry  the 
United  States  mail.  When  this  road  was  finished  on 
October  2,  1833,  it  was  the  longest  railroad  in  the 
worjd. 

The  first  locomotive  ever  made  in  this  country  for 
actual  service  was  the  "  Best  Friend,"  built  for  the 
Charleston  and  Hamburg  road  under  the  personal 
direction  of  E.  L.  Miller  at  the  West  Point  Foundry 
and  was  tested  about  1830.  Mr.  Miller  was  an  en- 
thusiastic advocate  of  steam  power,  but  met  with 
strong  opposition  from  all  sides.  Undaunted  by  ob- 
stacles, he  pushed  on  his  purpose  and  proposed  to 
construct  an  engine  on  his  own  responsibility,  equal  to 
the  best  then  in  use  in  England.  He  went  to  work  on 
those  terms  and  succeeded  so  well  that  he  beat  down 
all  opposition  by  sheer  force  of  his  genius.  The 
"Best  Friend"  had  a  vertical  boiler  without  fire-tubes 
and  looked  more  like  a  huge  beer  bottle  than  anything 
else.  The  furnace  at  the  bottom  of  the  boiler  was 
surrounded  by  water  and  projecting  parts  ran  out 
from  its  sides  and  top  to  make  the  heating  surface 
greater.  Tradition  has  it  that  the  first  boiler  explosion 
was  that  of  the  boiler  of  this  famous  engine.  A  negro 
was  working  as  fireman  and,  being  annoyed  by  the 


30  FOBTY    YEAKS    ON    THE    BAIL. 

hissing  of  the  escaping  steam,  ventured  on  the  experi- 
ment of  shutting  off  the  noise  by  sitting  on  the 
safety  valve.  There  was  too  little  of  the  fireman  left 
to  tell  how  he  liked  the  experiment. 

Just  before  my  day,  cars  had  been  of  the  stage- 
coach style  on  trucks,  the  latter  being  coupled  with 
chains,  or  chain-links,  leaving  two  or  three  feet  slack, 
so  that  when  the  locomotive  started  it  took  up  the 
chains  by  jerks  that  sent  passengers  headlong,  or 
caused  many  bruises.  The  original  coaches  had  room 
for  from  four  to  six  passengers  inside  and  room  for 
two  others  outside  on  seats  at  each  end.  This  plan 
was  soon  varied  by  building  one  car  having  the 
capacity  equivalent  to  several  coach  bodies,  and  di- 
vided into  compartments  with  two  transverse  seats  in 
each,  the  conductor  collecting  fares  by  climbing  along 
a  foot-board  outside.  Into  these  boxes  it  was  hard  to 
crowd  more  than  twenty  passengers.  I  can  remember 
an  excursion  on  the  Fourth  of  July,  about  1847,  when 
many  of  these  cars  were  used.  Improvements  were 
made  from  time  to  time,  but,  compared  with  modern 
cars,  those  of  my  earliest  railroading  were  nothing  to 
boast  of.  They  were  lighted  with  whale  oil  lamps, 
from  which  the  tops  of  the  cars  were  made  smoky  and 
the  sides  were  spattered  with  grease.  The  seats  were 
stiff  and  uncomfortable,  and  were  covered  with  horse- 
hair. Small  sheet -iron  stoves  placed  in  the  middle 


EARLY    RAILROADING.  31 

of  the  cars  were  used  for  heating  on  most  roads,  though 
many  cars  were  without  them.  To  these  discomforts 
were  added  the  showers  of  cinders  and  the  dense  smoke 
from  the  engine,  for  early  engines  were  without  spark 
arresters  and  the  flame  often  streamed  back  as  far  as 
the  rear  car.  Pitch  pine  was  largely  used  for  fuel  and 
the  amount  of  smoke,  sparks  and  cinders  may  be 
imagined.  The  only  way  to  get  a  breath  of  fresh  air 
was  by  opening  the  windows,  no  attempt  at  ventilation 
being  made.  It  was  a  long  time  before  coal  was  used 
for  fuel,  engines  being  built  only  for  wood.  This, 
necessitated  frequent  stoppages  to  "  wood  up,"  when 
all  hands  turned  in  till  the  work  was  done. 

Freight  cars  in  the  early  days  were  called  "burthen 
cars"  and  trains  were  known  as  "brigades."  Freight 
cars  were  mere  boxes,  a  little  longer  than  wide,  with  a 
wheel  at  each  corner.  They  had  doors  on  each  side,  and 
we  trainmen  had  to  walk  around  the  sides  on  a  foot- 
board, holding  on  by  an  iron  rod  running  the  whole 
length  of  the  car.  Freight  cars  were  so  small  that  we 
reported  two  as  one,  reporting  a  train  of  forty  cars, 
for  instance,  as  twenty.  I  remember  a  freight  col- 
lision at  Sommersworth,  in  1849,  when  the  cars  were  so 
small  and  light  that  many  of  them  were  thrown  over  a 
fence  and  scattered  all  over  the  neighboring  farms. 

The  brakes  of  all  cars  were  on  top,  and  the  brake- 
man  sat  in  that  elevated  position  in  a  little  cab,  using 


32  FORTY  YEARS  OK  THE  RAIL. 

a  foot-lever  such  as  is  now  used  on  omnibuses  and 
heavy  wagons.  At  first  the  brakes  only  worked  at  one 
end  of  the  car,  and  when  a  man  named  Stevens  invented 
a  double  brake,  that  worked  on  both  trucks  from  the 
one  wheel,  it  was  thought  one  of  the  greatest  inven- 
tions of  the  age. 

Until  1850,  the  three-chain  links  were  used  in 
coupling  cars.  The  sills,  and  platforms  were  not  on 
the  same  level,  so  that  the  line  of  resistance  was  not 
the  line  of  greatest  strength.  The  platforms  often 
went  crushing  together  and  in  case  of  collisions  tel- 
escoping was  of  most  frequent  occurrence.  When 
Miller  made  his  inventions,  these  accidents  became 
things  of  the  past.  It  was  before  the  days  of  teleg- 
raphy and  in  case  of  a  break-down  or  wreck,  the 
only  way  help  could  be  brought,  or  other  trains 
warned,  was  by  hand-car  or  by  messenger. 

In  the  old  cars  the  bell-cord  ran  over  the  top 
and  was  wound  on  a  reel,  and  we  had  to  climb  up 
to  the  top  of  the  cars,  no  matter  how  fast  the  train 
was  running,  to  use  the  cord  or  adjust  it  in  case  of 
mishap.  An  old  engineer  of  the  Erie  road  thus  tells 
how  the  bell-cord  came  to  be  invented: 

"Once  in  a  while  the  conductor  found  it  desirable 
to  eject  some  would-be  dead-head  passenger  while  be- 
tween stations,  but  as  there  was  no  means  to  let  the 
engineer  know  except  by  sending  word  by  a  brakeman, 


EARLY    RAILROADING.  33 

and  as  he  usually  had  to  cliinb  over  a  dozen  freight 
cars  before  he  could  attract  the  engineer's  attention,  it 
frequently  happened  that  the  train  reached  the  passen- 
ger's destination  before  it  could  be  stopped.  '  Pappy' 
Ayres,  the  pioneer  Erie  conductor,  got  tired  of  this 
and  one  day  he  tied  a  stick  of  wood  to  the  end  of 
a  long  rope,  and  hung  the  stick  in  the  engineer's  cab, 
and  carried  the  rope  over  the  cars  to  the  rear  of  the 
train.  His  idea  was  to  pull  the  rope*and  agitate  the 
stick  of  wood  when  he  wanted  the  engineer  to  stop  the 
train.  He  had  to  lick  the  engineer  before  the  latter 
would  consent  to  recognize  such  an  innovation,  but 
it  worked  to  a  charm  and  led  to  the  introduction  of 
the  now  universal  bell  and  rope  system  of  signaling 
cars." 

Some  of  the  old  strap-rails  were  in  use  on  the  Bos- 
ton and  Maine  when  I  went  on  that  road.  These  were 
wooden  rails  on  which  strap  iron  was  spiked.  The 
iron  often  curled  up,  owing  to  the  weight  on  the  cen- 
tral part  and  to  heat  or  frost.  When  the  ends  of  the 
rails  were  struck  by  the  wheels,  they  would  be  forced 
up  through  the  bottom  of  the  car.  Passengers  were 
often  hurt  in  this  way,  these  "snake  heads,"  as  they 
were  called,  coming  up  with  great  force.  "We  often 
had  to  stop  and  pound  down  the  iron,  or  hold  it  down 
till  the  train  had  passed  over.  At  first  iron  rails  were 
but  twelve  feet  long  and  weighed  from  thirty  to  forty 


84  FORTY  YEARS  ON  THE  BAIL. 

pounds  a  yard.  A  man  on  our  road  could  lift  two  of 
them  at  once.  Gradually  they  were  made  larger  and 
heavier  and  finally  steel  rails  were  introduced.  The 
most  approved  kind  now  are  thirty  feet  long  and  weigh 
from  seventy  to  ninety  pounds. 

Railroad  stations  at  first  were  mere  sheds,  open 
on  two  or  more  sides  to  wind  and  rain.  Frequently 
a  pine  box  in  open  air  by  the  side  of  the  track 
served  as  the  ticket  case,  and  was  the  only  landmark 
for  a  station.  The  little  sheltering  places  built  for  the 
engines  were  mere  play-houses  compared  with  the 
round-houses  of  to-day.  At  first  cars  and  freight 
were  protected  by  sheds,  until  experience  showed  that 
it  was  a  matter  of  economy  to  take  good  care  of  cars, 
and  a  matter  of  necessity  to  provide  good  storage 
facilities  for  freight. 

Side-tracks  were  built  to  connect  with  the  main 
track  at  one  end  only.  When  we  took  a  car  out  we 
had  to  push  it  by  hand  and  shove  it  on  a  side-track  by 
a  running  switch,  switch-engines  being  unthought  of. 
In  making  up  trains,  shifting  the  cars  had  to  be  done 
by  hand  or  by  horses. 

The  old  stage-travel  custom  of  "booking"  passen- 
gers was  first  adopted  by  railroads,  but  passed  out  of 
existence  long  before  my  time.  Then  no  tickets  were 
used,  the  receipts  of  the  booking-clerk  serving  as 
evidence  of  the  payment  of  fares.  A  little  later  the 


EARLY    RAILROADING.  35 

conductor  made  liis  rounds  carrying  a  large  tin  box 
into  which  the  passengers  dropped  their  fares  in  cash. 
Even  when  tickets  began  to  creep  into  use,  they  were 
at  first  sold  only  to  through  passengers,  while  the 
"  locals  "  had  to  pay  cash.  The  tin  box  was  often  dis- 
pensed with,  especially  on  western  roads.  One  old 
conductor  who  ran  a  train  in  Ohio  in  those  early  days, 
tells  how  he  took  all  the  cash  and  kept  it  until  Satur- 
day night,  then  paid  off  himself  and  the  boys  on  his 
run,  returning  the  surplus  earnings  to  the  company  at 
the  end  of  the  week.  Conductors  were  great  men  in 
those  times. 

The  first  railroad  tickets  were  simply  thick  white 
cards,  bearing  the  name  of  the  company  and  of  the 
two  stations  the  ticket  could  be  used  between,  the 
agent  at  the  selling  point  writing  his  name  at  the  bot- 
tom for  identification  and  to  prevent  counterfeiting. 
There  were  no  complicated  ticket  cases,  with  tickets 
for  hundreds  upon  hundreds  of  cities,  towns  and 
villages;  no  coupons,  no  station-stamps.  Local  tickets 
came  into  use  late  in  the  forties,  but  they  were  good 
only  on  the  road  by  which  they  were  issued,  and  a 
passenger  traveling  beyond  the  limits  of  any  road 
must  step  off  the  train  at  the  first  station  of  each  road 
on  his  route  and  buy  a  new  ticket.  For  instance, 
a  passenger  could  not  bay  a  ticket  from  New  York  to 
Chicago.  He  had  to  leave  the  car  at  Buffalo,  which 


SB  FORTY  YEARS  ON  THE  RAIL. 

was  the  end  of  the  first  railway  line  on  his  route,  and 
purchase  another  ticket  over  the  connecting  road, 
which  ran  as  far  as  Cleveland,  where  the  traveler  again 
went  to  the  ticket  window  to  pay  his  fare  to  Toledo. 
At  Toledo  he  bought  his  last  ticket,  which  entitled 
him  to  passage  to  his  destination.  In  those  days 
there  were  no  railroad  pools  or  combinations.  The 
cars  of  one  line  did  not  run  over  the  tracks  of  another, 
and  such  a  thing  as  monthly  balances  between  railroad 
companies  was  unknown.  Coupon  tickets  were  intro- 
duced about  the  middle  of  the  century.  Thousand- 
mile  tickets,  half -rate  tickets  to  clergymen,  theatrical 
and  other  special  tickets  have  all  come  into  use  since 
I  began  railroading.  The  first  printed  tickets  were 
invented  about  the  year  1836,  by  John  Edmondson, 
who  was  employed  at  a  small  station  near  Carlisle, 
England.  The  first  tickets  consecutively  numbered 
were  printed  at  Buffalo  by  George  Bailey,  who  was 
sent  over  by  Edmondson  with  one  of  his  machines  in 
1855.  Previous  to  this,  tickets  were  good  for  only  a 
single  passage. 

The  distinguishing  characteristic  of  the  old-time 
conductor  was  his  fine  silk  hat.  Slouch  and  stiff  hats 
were  good  enough  for  the  ordinary  citizen,  but  it  was 
before  the  days  of  uniforms,  and  conductors  followed 
their  own  taste  in  dress,  usually  selecting  the  best  to 
be  had.  A  leather  strap,  on  which  in  silver  letters 


EARLY   RAILROADING.  37 

was  the  word  "  Conductor,"  was  buckled  about  the 
hat  and  taken  off  at  the  end  of  each  run.  I  can 
remember  when  a  mere  lad,  I  thought  I  never  saw  a 
more  awe-inspiring  sight  than  Levi  Wright,  of  the 
Boston  and  Lowell  road,  with  his  tall  hat  and  impres- 
sive dignity  as  he  waved  his  hand  to  the  engineer  and 
shouted  "  All  aboard  "  in  a  tone  worthy  of  a  general. 
The  first  uniforms  used  by  railway  employees  were  on 
the  Hudson  River  road,  if  I  remember  correctly.  The 
Pennsylvania  road  next  adopted  uniforms,  and  only 
within  the  last  ten  or  twelve  years  have  they  come 
into  general  use. 

How  our  railroading  in  the  forties  impressed  the 
people  of  other  countries,  may  be  judged  from  the 
American  Notes  of  Charles  Dickens,  who  visited  this 
country  in  1842,  or  five  years  before  I  went  into  the 
service.  Mr.  Dickens  thus  wrote  :  "  There  are  no 
first  and  second-class  cars  as  with  us,  but  there 
is  a  gentlemen's  car  and  a  ladies'  car,  the  main  dis- 
tinction between  which  is  that  in  the  first  everybody 
smokes  ;  and  in  the  second,  nobody  does.  As  a  black 
man  never  travels  with  a  white  one  there  is  also  a 
negro  car,  which  is  a  great  lumbering,  clumsy  chest, 
such  as  Gulliver  put  to  sea  in,  from  the  Kingdom  of 
Brobdignag.  There  is  a  great  deal  of  jolting,  a  great 
deal  of  noise,  a  great  deal  of  wall,  not  much  window, 
a  locomotive  engine,  a  shriek,  and  a  bell.  The  cars 


38  FORTY  YEARS  ON  THE  RAIL. 

are  like  shabby  omnibuses,  but  larger,  holding  thirty, 
forty,  fifty  people.  The  seats,  instead  of  stretching 
from  end  to  end,  are  placed  crosswise.  Each  seat 
holds  two  person.  There  is  a  long  row  of  them  on 
each  side  of  the  caravan,  a  narrow  passage  up  the 
middle,  and  a  door  at  both  ends.  In  the  center  of  the 
carriage  there  is  usually  a  stove,  fed  with  charcoal  or 
Anthracite  coal,  which  is  for  the  most  part  red  hot. 
It  is  insufferably  close,  and  you  see  the  hot  air  flut- 
tering between  yourself  and  any  other  object  you  may 
happen  to  look  at,  like  the  ghost  of  smoke.  In  the 
ladies'  car  there  are  a  great  many  gentlemen  who 
have  ladies  with  them;  there  are  also  a  great  many 
ladies  who  have  nobody  with  them,  for  any  lady  may 
travel  alone  from  one  end  of  the  United  States  to  the 
other,  and  be  certain  of  the  most  courteous  and  con- 
siderate treatment  everywhere.  The  conductor,  or 
check-taker,  or  guard,  or  whatever  he  may  be,  wears 
no  uniform.  He  walks  up  and  down  the  car,  and  in 
and  out  of  it,  as  his  fancy  dictates ;  leans  against  the 
door  with  his  hands  in  his  pockets  and  stares  at  you 
if  you  chance  to  be  a  stranger,  or  enters  into  conver- 
sation with  the  passengers  about  him.  *  *  * 
On,  on  tears  the  mad  dragon  of  an  engine  with  its 
train  of  cars,  scattering  in  all  directions  a  shower  of 
burning  sparks  from  its  wood  fire,  screeching,  hiss- 
ing, yelling,  panting,  until  at  last  the  thirsty  monster 


EAKLY   RAILROADING. 


39 


stops    beneath    a    covered   way    to  drink,    the  people 
cluster  round,  and  you  have  time  to  breath  again." 

Among  the  transportation  interests  which  to-day 
ranks  next  to  the  railway  and  the  telegraph  as  a 
private  enterprise,  is  the  express  business.  It  was  a 
feature  of  early  railroading,  having  originated  away 
back  in  1839,  by  a  man  named  Harnden,  who  was  an 
employee  of  the  Boston  and  Worcester  railroad.  Two 
conductors  on  that  road  first  took  hold  of  the  idea. 
Bankers  sent  money  to  Boston  by  their  hands;  mer- 
chants ordered  goods  through  them.  Soon  the  con- 
ductors made  more  money  expressing  than  they  did 
on  the  road.  The  corporation  interfered  and  the 
men  had  their  choice  to  give  up  carrying  parcels  or 
resign.  Some  one  proposed  to  make  the  carrying  of 
money  and  parcels  a  trade  by  itself,  and  Harnden 
caught  the  idea.  With  a  small  trunk  in  his  hand  he 
began  the  express  business  between  Boston,  Provi- 
dence and  New  York  City  on  steamboats  running 
between  those  points.  Soon  after,  or  early  in  1840, 
Alvin  Adams  met  a  friend  in  Boston  who  was  full  of 
the  new  business,  and  suggested  that  an  express  on 
the  Worcester  road  would  be  just  as  successful  as 
Harnden' s.  Adams  caught  the  idea,  but  he  found 
that  Harnden  had  already  secured  that  line.  The 
road  would  not  listen  to  any  proposition  made  by  Mr. 
Adams. 


40  FORTY  YEARS  ON  THE  BAIL. 

"  There  is  not  business  enough  for  two  lines,"  said 
the  head  official.  "Harnden  has  the  franchise  of  the 
road.  He  does  his  work  well,  and  the  company  will 
not  interfere." 

Mr.  Adams  then  went  to  New  York  to  interview 
Mr.  Coit,  of  the  Norwich  boats,  but  this  gentleman 
would  concede  nothing,  and  denounced  the  express 
men  as  nuisances. 

"  One  line  is  quite  enough  for  the  land,"  said  Mr. 
Coit,  closing  the  interview. 

The  office  of  the  Stonington  boat  was  next  visited, 
and  different  tactics  adopted. 

"  I  want  two  season  tickets  between  Boston  and 
New  York,"  said  Mr.  Adams. 

"How  often  do  you  want  to  travel?" 

"As  often  as  I  choose.  That  is  what  a  season 
ticket  means,  I  believe."  . 

"I  know  what  you  are  after,"  said  the  official, 
"  but  you  shall  have  the  tickets." 

Mr.  Adams  put  one  ticket  in  his  pocket  and  gave 
the  other  to  his  associate. 

Mr.  Harnden  had  just  vacated  his  well  known 
stand  in  Boston  for  what  he  thought  better  quarters, 
and  his  rival  immediately  rented  the  noted  place, 
which  he  kept  for  years.  A  small  trunk  held  the 
packages  of  the  first  day's  work,  and  the  money 
received  for  the  first  trip  was  two  dollars  and  seventy- 


EARLY   RAILROADING.  41 

five  cents.  Mr.  Adams  carried  his  express  packages 
as  personal  baggage,  and  went  to  New  York  one  day, 
returning  the  next.  He  soon  took  William  B.  Dins- 
more  to  manage  the  New  York  end  of  the  business. 
A  little  later  Mr.  Dinsmore  found  John  Hoey  selling 
papers  on  the  cars,  took  him  into  his  office  and  made 
him  one  of  the  ablest  expressmen  of  the  age.  Thus 
assisted,  Mr.  Adams  began  to  see  brighter  days. 
The  Worcester  road  soon  saw  its  mistake  and  sent 
word  to  him,  "You  can  have  our  line  if  you  want  it." 

Stevens,  of  the  Camden  and  Amboy  road,  was  one 
of  the  greatest  railroad  men  of  his  day.  He  looked 
on  expressage  as  an  intruder  and  an  antagonist. 
Express  matter  had  to  be  smuggled  over  his  line,  the 
packages  being  nailed  up  in  boxes  and  sent  as  freight. 
Mr.  Adams  went  to  New  Jersey'  to  see  Mr.  Stevens 
and  try  to  win  some  concession  from  him.  The  latter 
accused  the  expressman  of  defrauding  his  company  by 
smuggling  express  freight  over  the  road.  Mr.  Adams 
met  the  charge  like  a  man,  explained  his  plan,  and 
showed  how  much  better  it  would  be  for  the  road  to 
charge  reasonably  for  express-freight  than  to  send  it 
by  bulk. 

"  Make  a  contract  with  Mr.  Adams  for  thirty  days, 
and  see  how  it  works,"  said  Mr.  Stevens  to  the  vice- 
president,  at  the  close  of  the  interview. 

"  This   contract  is  for  thirty   days,     It  may  last 


42  FORTY  YEARS  ON  THE  RAIL. 

thirty   years,"    remarked   the    vice-president    as    the 
papers  were  signed,  and  it  did. 

Thus  did  Mr.  Adams  beat  down  opposition  until 
his  business  extended  all  over  the  country.  Henry 
Wells  and  William  G.  Fargo  later  founded  rival 
companies,  express  interests  growing  with  every  mile 
of  track  laid  in  the  land. 

No  sooner  had  railroads  proved  a  success  than  a 
mania  for  constructing  them  sprang  up  in  all  quarters 
of  the  country.  They  were  the  talk  of  the  day  in 
newspapers,  on  street-corners,  and  in  every  other 
place  where  men  gathered.  They  were  the  subject 
under  discussion  in  excited  town-meetings,  and 
aroused  feelings  of  bitterness  between  hamlets  and 
villages  that  had  previously  lived  in  complete  har- 
mony with  one  another.  The  fever  was  at  its  height 
in  the  States  bordering  on  the  Atlantic,  but  the  West 
also  had  a  good  share  of  road-building.  By  1832  nine- 
teen roads  were  either  completed  or  projected  in  the 
United  States.  The  first  road  in  Ohio  was  started  in 
1835,  and  was  known  as  the  Mad  Eiver  and  Lake 
Erie  line.  The  first  road  out  of  Chicago  was  char- 
tered in  1836  as  the  Galena  and  Chicago  Union,  but 
owing  to  the  financial  crash  of  1837,  no  work  wag 
done  on  it  until  1847.  In  1839,  a  line  was  con- 
structed from  Lexington,  Kentucky,  to  Frankfort  in 
the  same  State,  Henry  Clay  being  among  its  warmest 


EARLY    RAILROADING.  43 

advocates  and  largest  stockholders.  In  1841,  there 
was  an  immense  excitement  over  the  opening  of  the 
Western  road  from  Boston  to  Albany.  Everybody 
who  amounted  to  anything  took  a  trip  "  out  West "  on 
this  wonderful  line,  and  newspapers  were  kept  busy 
reporting  the  exchanges  of  hospitality  between  the 
officials  and  other  noted  citizens  of  the  two  capitals. 

Up  to  1850  there  was  but  one  line  between  the 
seaboard  and  the  lakes.  For  several  years  afterward 
there  were  only  three  railroads  to  the  West  running 
out  of  New  York  City.  These  w^ere  the  Erie,  the  New 
York  Central,  and  the  Pennsylvania.  The  Erie  and 
New  York  Central  were  early  rivals.  It  was  the  plan 
of  their  projectors,  as  far  as  practicable,  to  avoid  the 
mountain  track,  taking  a  north-westerly  course  out  of 
New  York  City  ;  hence,  their  routes  ran  almost 
parallel,  and,  in  consequence,  in  the  struggle  to  get 
possession  of  a  short  line — which  was,  however,  a  very 
important  link,  but  which  happened  to  occupy  a  piece 
of  debatable  territory  between  the  two  trunk  lines 
mentioned — arose  the  Erie  railway  war,  one  of  the 
most  fiercely  contested  of  railroad  strifes. 

Ground  was  broken  for  the  Schenectady  and 
Albany — the  second  road  constructed  in  New  York 
State— on  the  25th  of  July,  1830.  In  1853,  in  con- 
junction with  several  other  disconnected  local  roads, 
it  was  consolidated  into  one  corporation  under  the 


44  FORTY  YEARS  ON  THE  BAIL. 

name  of  tho  "  New  York  Central  Kailroad  Company." 
Up  to  1866  thirteen  distinct  local  links  had  been 
merged  into  this  one  line. 

To  William  Wilson,  of  Fonda,  New  York,  belongs 
the  honor  of  having  hauled  the  first  train  of  cars 
between  Schenectady  and  Albany.  He  drew  it  with  a 
team  of  horses.  When  the  first  locomotive  was  put 
into  use  on  this  road  he  was  employed,  with  other 
young  men,  in  sodding  the  sides  of  thr  embankment 
along  the  line.  He  said  that  the  train  ran  so  slowly 
that  he  often  amused  himself  and  provoked  the 
engineer  by  running  across  the  track  in  front  of  the 
engine  with  an  armful  of  sod,  and  back  again,  while 
the  train  was  making  its  best  time.. 

My  native  State  was  one  of  the  most  conservative 
in  adopting  the  railroad.  The  late  Josiah  Quincy  left 
some  particulars  about  his  experience  with  the  people 
of  Dorchester,  Massachusetts,  from  which  I  quote  the 
following,  as  it  illustrates  so  well  the  spirit  of  that 
day  in  many  sections: 

"  The  Old  Colony  road  passes  over  a  route  which  I 
caused  to  be  surveyed  at  my  own  expense,  with  the 
view  of  providing  cheap  transportation  from  the  towns 
of  Dorchester  and  Quincy,  and  others  to  the  south  of 
them.  Now  can  the  reader  believe  that  the  words  I 
have  italicized  were  chosen  so  late  as  1842  by  the 
inhabitants  of  the  town  of  Dorchester,  in  regular  town 


EARLY   RAILROADING. 


45 


meeting  assembled,  to  express  their  sense  of  the 
injury  that  would  result  to  them  and  their  possessions 
by  laying  a  track  through  any  portion  of  their  terri- 
tory ?  '  Resolved,  That  our  representatives  be  in- 
structed to  use  their  utmost  endeavors  to  prevent,  if 


THE  AUTHOR  FORTY  YEARS  AGO. — 


21. 


possible,  so  great  a  calamity  to  our  town  as  must  be 
the  location  of  any  railroad  through  it,  and  if  that 
cannot  be  prevented,  to  diminish  this  calamity  as  far 
as  possible  by  confining  the  location  to  the  route 
herein  designated.' ' 


46  FORTY    YEARS    ON    THE    RAIL. 

In  addition  to  these  words  of  Mr.  Quincy,  I  will 
also  quote  an  extract  from  a  newspaper  article  pub- 
lished by  a  citizen  of  Dorchester  soon  after  the 
meeting  just  spoken  of.  It  is  as  follows: 

"  What  better  or  more  durable  communication  can 
be  had  than  the  Neponset  river,  or  the  wide  Atlantic? 
By  using  these,  our  thriving  village  will  not  be 
destroyed,  our  enterprising  mechanics  ruined,  our 
beautiful  gardens  and  farms  made  desolate,  and  our 
public  or  private  interests  most  seriously  affected. 
Look  at  the  rapid  growth  of  Neponset  village,  through 
which  this  contemplated  road  is  to  run  (the  citizens 
of  which  are  as  enterprising  and  as  active  as  can  be 
found,  many  of  whom  have  invested  their  all  either  in 
trade,  mechanical  manufactures,  or  real  estate),  and 
all — all  are  to  be  sacrificed  under  a  car  ten  thousand 
times  worse  for  the  public  than  the  car  of  the  Jug- 
gernaut." 

It  scarcely  seems  credible  that  these  words  were 
written  in  educated  Massachusetts,  less  than  fifty 
years  ago. 


CHAPTEE  III. 

A    MILE    A    MINUTE. 

In  these  days  of  lightning  express  trains  it  is  hard 
to  realize  that  fifty  years  ago  the  locomotive  was  in  its 
infancy,  and  its  possibilities  were  not  dreamed  of.  At 
that  time  a  well  known  resident  of  Liverpool  said  that 
if  it  were  ever  proved  possible  for  a  locomotive  engine 
to  go  ten  miles  an  hour,  he  would  undertake  to  eat  a 
stewed  engine-wheel  for  breakfast.  Whether  the 
gentleman  lived  to  partake  of  this  meal  is  not 
recorded. 

The  press  almost  universally  scoffed  at  the  same 
idea  of  rapid  locomotion,  declaring  it  impossible  and 
denouncing  its  advocates  as  lunatics  and  fanatics. 
"  Twelve  miles  an  hour  !  "  exclaimed  the  "  Quarterly 
Eeview,"  about  the  time  of  which  I  have  been 
speaking,  "twelve  miles  an  hour!  As  well  might  a 
man  be  shot  out  of  a  Congreve  rocket." 

About  1830,  George  Stephenson  was  cross-examined 
by  a  Parliamentary  committee  in  regard  to  construct- 
ing a  railroad  from  Liverpool  to  Manchester,  and  a 
member  of  that  body  closely  questioned  the  great 

47 


48  FORTY  YEARS  ON  THE  RAIL. 

engineer,  the  interview  being  thus  given  in  a  recent 
work  on  railway  history. 

"Well,  Mr.  Stephenson,  perhaps  you  could  go 
seventeen  miles  an  hour?  " 

"  Yes,"  was  the  reply. 

"  Perhaps  some  twenty  miles  might  be  reached?  " 

"  Yes,  certainly." 

"  Twenty-five,  I  dare  say,  you  do  not  think  impos- 
sible?" 

"  Certainly  not  impossible." 

"Dangerous?" 

"Certainly  not." 

"  Now,  tell  me,  Mr.  Stephenson,"  said  the  Parlia- 
mentary member  with  indignation,  "  will  you  say  that 
you  can  go  thirty  miles?  " 

"  Certainly,"  was  the  answer  as  before. 

Questions  ended  for  the  time,  and  the  wiseacres  of 
the  committee  burst  into  a  roar  of  laughter,  but 
Stephenson  built  the  road,  and  on  his  trial  trip 
astonished  the  world  with  a  speed  of  thirty-six  miles 
an  hour. 

About  the  time  England  was  ridiculing  its  early 
railroad  efforts,  in  America  people  were  laughing  a 
good  deal  over  the  race  between  a  horse  and  a  loco- 
motive, in  which  horse-power  won.  In  those  early 
days  Peter  Cooper  built  the  locomotive  "Tom  Thumb," 
for  the  Baltimore  road,  and  ran  a  race  with  the 


A    MILE    A   MINUTE.  49 

gallant  gray  horse  owned  by  the  stage  proprietors, 
Messrs.  Stockton  and  Stokes.  The  horse  was  attached 
to  a  car  on  the  second  track.  The  race  is  thus 
described  : 

"Away  went  horse  and  engine,  the  snort  of  the 
one  keeping  time  to  the  puff  of  the  other.  The  gray 
had  the  best  of  it  at  first,  getting  a  quarter  of  a  mile 
ahead  while  the  engine  was  getting  up  steam.  The 
blower  whistled,  the  steam  blew  off  in  vapory  clouds, 
the  pace  increased,  the  passengers  shouted,  the  engine 
gained  on  the  horse,  the  silk  was  applied,  the  race 
was  neck-and-neck,  nose-to-nose  ;  then  the  engine 
passed  the  horse,  and  a  great  hurrah  hailed  the 
victory.  But  just  at  this  moment,  when  the  gray's 
master  was  about  giving  up,  the  band  which  turned 
the  pulley  that  moved  the  blower  slipped  from  the 
drum  and  the  safety  valve  ceased  to  scream,  and  the 
engine,  for  want  of  breath,  began  to  wheeze  and  pant. 
In  vain  Mr.  Cooper,  who  was  his  own  engineer  and 
fireman,  lacerated  his  hands  in  attempting  to  replace 
the  band  on  the  wheel;  the  horse  gained  on  the 
machine  and  passed  it,  to  his  great  chagrin.  Al- 
though the  band  was  presently  replaced,  and  steam 
qgain  did  its  best,  the  horse  was  too  far  ahead  'to  be 
overtaken,  and  came  in  winner  of  the  race." 

This  little  engine  was  only  meant  for  an  experi- 
ment, but  it  was  the  first  American  locomotive  ever 
4 


50  FORTY  YEARS  ON  THE  RAIL. 

constructed.  Next  came  Miller's  engine,  greater 
speed  being  attained  each  year.  Even  so  late  as  1841, 
it  was  stated  as  an  astonishing  fact  that  "  after 
leaving  Boston  in  the  morning,  travelers  would  in 
fifteen  hours  be  in  Albany."  When  the  century 
reached  its  middle  year,  runs  that  may  be  regarded  as 
fast  even  to-day  were  often  made,  and  of  these  by  far 
the  most  remarkable  was  made  in  1848,  on  the  road 
with  which  I  was  first  identified. 

Mr.  Minot,  superintendent  of  the  Boston  and 
Maine  railroad  in  its  early  days,  was  a  progressive  man, 
always  on  the  alert  for  improvements  that  should 
make  his  line  stand  among  the  first  in  the  country. 
One  day  in  1848  he  conceived  the  idea  of  running  a 
mile  a  minute,  and  when  once  the  thought  entered  his 
mind,  he  enthusiastically  bent  every  energy  towards 
realizing  it.  He  had  a  ten-ton  engine  built  to  order 
at  the  works  of  Hinkley  and  Drury,  of  Boston,  and 
named  it  the  "Antelope,"  in  anticipation  of  its  speed. 
It  had  single  drivers,  six  feet  in  diameter.  Mr. 
Minot  watched  the  progress  of  the  "  Antelope  "  at  the 
works  with  jealous  care,  and  declared  it  should  run  a 
mile  a  minute,  or  go  back  to  the  shops. 

Lawrence,  a  station  twenty-six  miles  out  of  Boston, 
was  chosen  by  the  superintendent  as  the  terminus  of 
the  trial  trip.  Every  detail  was  carefully  arranged  in 
order  to  give  the  new  engine  a  chance  to  break  all  pre- 


A    MILE    A    MINUTE.  51 

vious  records.  Nothing  escaped  the  eagle  eye  of  the 
superintendent.  He  was  especially  careful  in  select- 
ing his  men  for  the  run. 

"  Can  you  put  me  in  Lawrence  in  twenty-six  minutes, 
Pemberton?"  he  asked  of  the  best  engineer  on  the 
road. 

"It's  as  good  as  taking  your  life  in  your  own 
hands,  sir,"  replied  Mr.  Pemberton. 

"Not  at  all,"  said  Mr.  Minot.  "If  you  won't  do 
it,  I'll  make  the  run  myself." 

As  every  man  on  the  road  knew,  the  enterprising 
superintendent  besides  being  a  natural  mechanic,  and 
as  competent  an  engineer  as  ever  handled  a  lever,  was 
careful  and  conscientious  about  risking  human  life 
even  to  a  scrupulous  degree. 

"  Will  you  do  it,  Pemberton?"  again  asked  the 
superior  officer,  as  the  engineer  still  hesitated. 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  Good— I'll  ride  with  you." 

Choosing  a  day  for  the  trial  trip,  men  were  sent 
over  the  road  to  spike  down  all  the  switches  and  see 
that  everything  was  in  perfect  order.  Station  agents 
were  warned  not  to  permit  any  obstructions  on  the 
track.  It  was  before  Mr.  Morse  had  introduced 
telegraphy,  and  to  run  a  mile  a  minute,  a  speed  until 
then  unheard  of,  required  the  utmost  forethought  and 
most  careful  preparation.  All  trains  were  either  side- 


52  FORTY  YEARS  ON  THE  RAIL. 

tracked  or  taken  off  the  road  for  the  trip,  and  an 
engine  was  sent  ahead  to  see  that  all  instructions 
were  carried  out. 

The  coming  trial  of  the  "  Antelope  "  was  talked  of 
far  and  near,  and  the  event  was  awaited  eagerly  in 
railroad  circles.  Eepresentatives  of  the  leading 
Boston  papers  were  invited  to  accompany  the  superin- 
tendent, and  when  the  appointed  day  arrived,  they, 
with  a  few  other  guests,  were  given  possession  of  the 
only  car  that  was  to  make  the  run. 

A  large  crowd  gathered  at  the  station  and  amid 
cheers  and  waving  of  hats,  the  engineer  pulled  open 
the  throttle,  while  Mr.  Minot,  who  stood  by  his  side, 
gave  a  parting  salute  with  his  hand. 

Slowly  the  engine  gathered  headway,  then  it  went 
thundering  on  faster  and  faster,  the  six-foot  drivers 
annihilating  space  at  a  rate  before  unheard  of.  Boston 
was  soon  left  behind,  and  the  "  Antelope  "  plunged  into 
the  open  country  with  the  fleetness  of  the  wind,  Mr. 
Minot  smiling  with  pleasure  as  he  kept  one  eye  on  the 
steam-gauge,  and  the  other  on  the  rapidly  receding 
fence-posts,  ever  and  anon  speaking  a  short,  quick 
sentence  to  the  brave  engineer.  Everything  worked 
to  a  charm ;  not  the  smallest  detail  in  the  engine  was 
faulty. 

The  pace  increased  amid  the  cheers  of  the  passen- 
gers, notwithstanding  the  jolting  over  rough  bits  of 


A   MILE   A   MINUTE.  53 

road,  which  were  numerous  in  those  days,  when  track- 
laying  had  not  reached  its  present  excellence.  It  only 
added  to  the  general  excitement  when  they  were 
nearly  thrown  from  their  seats  as  the  train  plunged 
around  a  sharp  curve,  or  narrowly  escaped  jumping 
the  track.  Few  of  the  guests  had  nerves  steady 
enough  to  keep  them  from  feeling  a  little  fear,  for 
after  all  they  were  simply  making  an  experiment,  and 
who  could  foretell  the  result? 

Mr.  Minot  never  lost  his  confidence  in  being  able 
to  reach  Lawrence  in  twenty-six  minutes,  when  once 
the  "Antelope"  had  fairly  started  on  its  new  career. 

On  they  sped,  now  past  a  group  of  country  people 
whose  horses  often  took  fright  and  started  off  in  all 
directions  to  escape  the  snort  of  the  monster.  Then 
the  train  dashed  by  a  station  filled  with  a  wondering 
crowd  whose  cheers  could  be  heard  but  a  second  by 
the  passengers  of  the  lightning  express,  and  again 
they  passed  over  a  stretch  of  down-grade. 

Half  way  to  Lawrence  Mr.  Minot  looked  at  his 
watch. 

"  Fourteen  minutes,"  he  said.  "  That  won't  do, 
Pemberton;  we  are  a  minute  behind." 

Shutting  his  lips  more  firmly,  the  engineer  threw 
the  throttle  wide  open,  and  the  "Antelope"  obeyed 
its  master. 

Not  a  single  mishap  occurred;  all  the  switches  were 
in  perfect  order ;  not  a  man  had  failed  in  his  duty. 


54  FORTY  YEARS  ON  THE  RAIL. 

At  the  first  glimpse  of  Lawrence  Mr.  Minot  again 
looked  at  his  watch.  A  smile  lighted  up  his  face  and 
his  eyes  had  a  look  of  exultation.  As  they  neared  the 
station  he  stood  with  his  watch  in  hand,  and  just  as 
the  engineer  brought  the  train  to  a  stand-still,  the 
time-piece  marked  twenty-six  minutes. 

A  great  crowd  awaited  the  "Antelope's"  arrival, 
eager  to  know  whether  the  much  talked  of  deed  'had 
been  accomplished. 

"Did  you  make  it?"  cried  out  an  excited  on- 
looker. 

"  Yes,"  shouted  Mr.  Minot  in  return. 

In  a  moment,  cheer  after  cheer  arose  for  the  men 
who  had  first  driven  an  engine  a  mile  a  minute.  The 
guests  and  the  rest  of  the  spectators  pressed  forward 
to  shake  hands  with  the  superintendent  and  his 
engineer,  and  to  offer  congratulations,  while  crowds 
flocked  from  far  and  near  to  look  at  the  engine  that 
had  accomplished  so  wonderful  a  run. 

Glowing  accounts  of  the  event  were  given  in  all 
of  the  Boston  papers,  and  Mr.  Minot  received  an 
ovation  such  as  seldom  has  fallen  to  the  lot  of  a  rail- 
road man  before  or  since. 


CHAPTEE  IV. 

REMINISCENCES   OF   OTHER    DAYS. 

In  the  East,  as  was  afterward  true  in  the  West,  it 
was  often  hard  for  out-of-town  residents  to  get  trains 
to  stop  at  their  stations,  and  to  secure  other  privileges 
upon  which  the  growth  of  their  villages  depended. 
When  I  began  railroading  in  1847,  a  little  group  of 
people  had  settled  about  a  mile  out  of  Medford,  or  six 
miles  from  Boston.  They  waited  on  the  superintend- 
ent of  the  road  one  day,  with  a  request  that  he  would 
stop  the  train  at  their  settlement.  He  refused,  not 
thinking  the  venture  would  pay,  but  they  persisted  in 
their  demand.  When  he  still  remained  firm  in  his 
refusal,  they  went  away  declaring  they  would  make 
him  stop  his  train  whether  he  wanted  to  or  not. 
There  was  a  heavy  grade  at  the  place,  and  when  we 
struck  it  the  next  day  the  engine  wheels  began  to  slip, 
and  after  a  moment  or  two  we  came  to  a  full  stop 
where  several  of  the  settlers  were  standing.  They 
jumped  aboard  while  the  engineer  got  out  to  investi- 
gate into  the  cause  of  our  delay.  He  found  the  track 
on  the  grade  had  been  smeared  with  molasses,  and  he 

55 


56  FORTY  YEAES  ON  THE  BAIL. 

had  to  back  up  till  lie  could  get  momentum  enough  to 
carry  him  over  the  hill.  In  the  face  of  such  persist- 
ence, there  was  110  use  in  trying  to  run  past  that 
station  after  that. 

While  I  was  on  the  Portland  run,  John  S.  Dunlap 
was  assistant  superintendent,  or  what  was  then  called 
transportation-master.  His  brother,  George  L.  Dun- 
lap,  now  a  Chicago  capitalist,  was  then  a  lad  about  my 
own  age  and  was  a  clerk  in  the  ticket  office.  George 
Dunlap  and  I  slept  together  in  the  large  hall  over  the 
depot,  and  many  a  prank  did  we  play  at  night,  often 
getting  in  danger  of  severe  reprimands  from  Superin- 
tendent Minot,  who  slept  in  a  room  adjoining.  We 
boys  made  the  depot  watchman's  life  a  burden  to  him. 
He  was  none  too  brave  and  his  nerves  were  under  a 
terrific  strain  as  he  made  his  half -hourly  rounds  at 
night  and  pulled  a  wire  leading  to  a  time-clock.  Each 
pull  drove  a  pin  in  the  clock,  and  if  one  of  these  were 
missing  in  the  morning,  it  cost  him  a  fine  of  ten 
cents.  One  dark  night  Dunlap  and  I  lay  for  the 
watchman  behind  a  train  of  cars  that  had  been  side- 
tracked. We  had  a  box  of  empty  pop-bottles,  and 
when  the  poor  man  came  around  the  corner,  peering 
about  to  see  if  anything  had  gone  wrong,  we  com- 
menced a  fusilade  of  bottles,  which  fell  on  the  depot 
platform  with  such  a  rattle  and  a  crash  that  they 
scared  the  poor  fellow  almost  out  of  his  senses.  He 


REMINISCENCES    OF    OTHER    DAYS.  57 

took  to  his  heels  shouting  at  the  top  of  his  voice  for 
the  police.  Everyone  was  roused,  but  before  the 
superintendent  had  reached  the  scene  of  action, 
George  and  I  were  in  bed  and  apparently  sound 
asleep.  We  may  have  been  suspected  of  this  and 
similar  pranks,  but  we  were  lucky  enough  never  to 
get  caught. 

Dunlap  in  those  days  was  very  fond  of  going  out 
to  ride  on  an  engine,  and.  when  anything  of  unusual 
interest  was  in  progress,  he  was  always  on  hand.  I 
remember  one  day  there  had  been  a  fearful  snow- 
storm, and  huge  drifts  covered  fences  and  small 
buildings  out  of  sight  and  were  piled  high  all  along 
the  road.  We  attached  two  or  three  engines  to  the 
snow-plow  to  clear  the  track.  Dunlap,  ever  ready  to 
perform  some  daring  feat,  got  on  the  plow  with  the 
shovelers.  All  went  well  for  a  while  and  the  boys 
enjoyed  the  fun,  until  the  engines  got  near  South 
Heading,  when  the  plow  jumped  the  track  and  went 
over  the  fence,  throwing  Duiilap  and  the  rest  in  all 
directions.  A  pretty  thoroughly  scared  set  of  boys 
they  were  for  a  minute,  as  they  whizzed  through  the 
air,  but  they  were  not  hurt  and  they  soon  joined  in 
the  general  laugh.  Dunlap  says  he  never  attempted 
to  ride  on  a  snow-plow  after  that. 

In  those  early  days  we  boys  often  took  liberty  of 
action  which  would  drive  a  man  from  the  profession 


58  FOKTY    YEAES    ON    THE    KAIL. 

if  put  into  practice  in  our  present  times  of  perfect 
order  and  discipline.  I  remember  baggage-masters 
Israel  Lebay,  Albert  Prescott  and  myself  once  took  it 
into  our  heads  to  change  off  trains,  and  without  saying 
a  word  to  Superintendent  Minot  about  it,  we  went  out 
on  runs  to  suit  ourselves.  It  only  took  Mr.  Minot  a 
day  to  discover  that  something  was  wrong. 

"What  does  this  mean?"  he  demanded,  as  he 
looked  over  the  schedule  and  saw  none  of  us  were  on 
the  right  train. 

Naturally  we  could  give  him  no  satisfactory  expla- 
nation, and  he  summarily  discharged  every  one  of  us. 
However,  he  punished  us  thus  severely  merely  as  a 
lesson,  for  we  were  all  reinstated  after  a  few  days. 

My  misdemeanor  gave  me  an  unexpected  increase 
in  pay.  When  I  went  to  Mr.  Minot  to  ask  him  to 
take  me  back,  and  when  he  agreed  to  do  so,  I 
jokingly  remarked  that  I  had  heard  that  when  a  man 
was  discharged  and  hired  over  again,  it  had  always 
been  a  custom  to  raise  his  pay.  Mr.  Minot  laughed 
heartily  and  then  said,  "  All  right,  Charley,  I  will 
give  you  five  dollars  more  per  month.  I  guess  you 
have  had  discipline  enough  to  earn  it  this  time." 

After  running  the  Portland  train  nearly  two  years, 
I  married,  when  about  twenty  years  old,  and  shortly 
afterward  moved  to  Eeading,  Massachusetts,  where  I 
was  baggageman  on  the  Beading  train,  with  Elbridge 


REMINISCENCES    OF    OTHER    DAYS.  59 

Wood  for  my  conductor.  I  remember  while  on  this 
run  I  told  a  straight  lie  to  get  off  duty.  It  was  in 
August,  1850,  when  my  first  baby  was  born.  This  is 
how  it  happened.  Our  cozy  home  was  in  plain  sight 
from  the  road,  across  a  broad  field  not  far  from 
Reading  depot.  I  had  told  my  wife  before  leaving 
home  if  all  went  well  to  have  a  white  flag  hung  out  of 
the  window  when  the  train  passed  through,  and  to  put 
out  a  red  signal  if  ill  news  awaited  me.  That  day  for 
some  reason  the  regular  conductor  was  off  duty  and 
George  L.  Dunlap  ran  the  train.  I  tried  hard  to  keep 
my  mind  on  my  work  all  day  long,  but  did  not 
succeed  very  well.  There  was  a  curve  in  the  road 
just  before  the  train  came  in  sight  of  my  house,  and  I 
remember  now  that  my  heart  was  in  my  mouth  and 
my  eyes  were  pretty  dim  as  I  swung  myself  out  from 
the  baggage-car  to  get  a  glimpse  as  soon  as  I  could  of 
the  signal  that  I  knew  would  be  waiting  for  me. 

"  Cheer  up,  old  boy,"  said  Dunlap,  who  stood  near 
me,   "  I  know  it's  all  right." 

We   passed  the   curve,   and  though  my  eyes  nearly 
failed  me  at  the  moment,  I  saw  the  white  flag. 

"  What  does  it  mean?"   said  Dunlap. 

Just  then  my  desire  to  see   that   baby  became  so 
strong  that  truth  and  duty  faded  out  of  existence. 

"It  means,"  I  said  hurriedly,    "that   I  must  goto 
my  wife  right  off." 


60  FORTY  YEAKS  ON  THE  HAIL. 

"  Go  ahead  then,"  was  ths  hearty  response,  and  ere 
long  I  was  off  duty,  on  my  way  to  the  cottage  home. 

Long  years  passed  before  I  confessed  to  Mr. 
Dunlap  that  I  had  deceived  him,  but  we  have  often 
spoken  of  it  since,  in  talking  over  the  reminiscences  of 
our  early  days  together. 

About  the  time  of  which  I  have  just  spoken,  Super- 
intendent Minot  left  his  old  road  and  accepted  the 
superintendency  of  the  famous  Erie  line.  His  loss 
was  deeply  felt,  and  many  of  his  best  men  accompanied 
him.  Among  those  who  went  were  H.  G.  Brooks, 
Henry  Sweetzer,  Henry  Hobbs,  David  Pasho,  Santa 
Anna  Sherman,  William  Hall,  and  Guy  Clarke. 

H.  G.  Brooks,  who  afterward  founded  the  mammoth 
Brooks  Locomotive  Works,  which  are  located  at  Dun- 
kirk, New  York,  ran  the  engine  "  Andover  "  on  our  old 
road,  and  he  and  I  were  warm  friends.  Being  a  man 
of  more  than  ordinary  ability,  he  rose  rapidly  in  rail- 
road circles,  and  his  career  may  be  given  as  an 
example  of  how  promotions  were  made  in  the  olden 
days.  In  November,  1856,  he  was  appointed  master- 
mechanic  of  the  Ohio  and  Mississippi  railway;  in 
April,  1860,  he  became  master-mechanic  of  the 
western  division;  in  October,  1860,  while  still  retain- 
ing his  former  position,  he  was  made  superintendent 
of  the  same  division;  in  March,  1865,  he  became 
superintendent  of  motive  power  and  machinery  of  the 


REMINISCENCES    OF    OTHER    DAYS.  61 

Erie  railroad,  with  headquarters  at  New  York,  and  in 
1869  he  established  the  works  that  still  bear  his 
name,  and  that  have  grown  to  such  enormous  propor- 
tions. 

It  will  be  of  interest  in  these  days  when  methods 
are  so  different  to  read  what  difficulties  had  to  be 
overcome  thirty  or  forty  years  ago,  so  I  quote  from  a 
personal  letter  received  by  me  from  Mr.  Brooks  in 
March,  1887,  in  which  he  gives  the  following  incident: 

"Engine  No.  90,  which  I  brought  from  Boston  to 
Dunkirk,  was  shipped  from  the  Hinkley  works  (then 
known  as  the  Boston  Locomotive  Works),  in  October, 
1850,  on  a  coasting  vessel  for  Piermont,  New  York, 
where  she  was  transferred  to  a  canal  boat  and  trans- 
ported to  Buffalo  over  the  Erie  canal,  there  trans- 
ferred to  a  schooner  and  brought  to  Dunkirk;  the 
entire  time  occupied  in  the  transportation  of  the 
locomotive  from  Boston  to  Dunkirk  being  forty-four 
days." 

On  April  22nd,  only  six  weeks  from  the  day  on 
which  this  letter  was  written  to  me,  passed  away  my 
old  friend,  who  was  one  of  the  greatest  locomotive 
builders  in  the  United  States.  H.  G.  Brooks  was 
born  in  Andover,  Massachusetts,  and  at  the  time  of  his 
death  was  fifty-nine  years  of  age.  He  was  a  man  of 
rare  social  qualities,  was  generous  to  a  fault,  and  was 
much  beloved  by  all  with  whom  he  came  in  contact. 


62  FORTY  YEARS  ON  THE  RAIL. 

His  funeral  was  the  largest  ever  known  in  Western 
New  York,  friends  gathering  from  all  parts  of  the 
nation  to  pay  their  tribute  of  respect  to  the 
noble  man.  The  employees  of  the  works  gathered 
about  the  grave  of  the  departed  and  as  each  dropped 
into  it  a  branch  of  evergreen,  their  tears  fell  upon 
the  last  resting  place  of  their  beloved  master  and 
friend.  Mr.  Brooks  was  buried  in  Forest  Hill 
Cemetery,  Fredonia,  New  York. 

Not  long  after  leaving  the  East,  Mr.  Minot  and 
other  friends  who  had  gone  with  him  urged  me  to 
join  them.  "  It's  too  far,"  I  answered,  but  the  offer 
of  a  conductor's  place  at  last  induced  me  to  accept  the 
proposition  made  me  and  I  started  West.  It  seems  queer 
now-a-days  to  hear  how  New  York  State  was  con- 
sidered "  out  West"  then.  I  soon  found  the  country 
too  far  from  the  "  Hub  of  the  Universe  "  to  suit  my 
tastes.  I  had  never  before  been  so  far  away  from 
Boston,  and  I  was  too  firmly  attached  to  the  good  old 
city  not  to  miss  it  sadly,  so  I  started  back  home. 
After  taking  a  trip  over  the  road,  I  returned  eastward 
by.  way  of  Lake  Erie,  Lake  Ontario,  the  St.  Lawrence 
River  and  the  Rutland  and  Burlington  road,  thus 
taking  a  long  journey  for  those  days.  Stopping  at 
Rutland,  I  accepted  the  position  of  conductor  on  the 
Western  Vermont  railroad,  of  which  Walter  S. 
Johnson  was  superintendent,  and  soon  moved  my 


REMINISCENCES    OF    OTHER    DAYS.  63 

little  family  to  that  city.  W.  P.  Johnson,  our  general 
ticket  and  passenger  agent  at  that  time,  and  who  was 
afterward  the  general  passenger  agent  of  the  Illinois 
Central  for  a  quarter  of  a  century,  is  now  with  the 
Lake  Shore  and  Michigan  Southern  in  the  same 
position.  The  corps  of  conductors  on  the  Western 
*  Vermont  at  the  time  of  which  I  speak  included  only 
George  L.  Dunlap,  Jesse  Burdette  and  myself. 

In  1851  I  began  my  duties  in  Yermont.  Many  a 
pleasant  memory  comes  to  me  from  those  days,  as  they 
are  full  of  reminiscences  both  curious  and  interesting. 

One  dark,  foggy  night,  as  we  pulled  out  of 
Bennington  about  nine  o'clock,  I  warned  my  engineer, 
Mr.  Nash,  to  run  slowly  through  a  deep  cut  about  five 
miles  from  the  station.  "  All  right,"  he  answered, 
and  though  he  was  a  fearless,  devil-may-care  sort  of 
fellow,  who  enjoyed  nothing  in  the  world  better  than 
a  swift  dash  through  the  roaring  tempest,  he  obeyed 
orders,  and  as  a  result  averted  a  terrible  accident. 

Just  as  we  rounded  the  curve  into  the  cut,  the 
engine  struck  a  huge  bowlder  that  had  been  dis- 
lodged from  the  mountain  side  and  had  rolled  to  the 
center  of  the  track  and  stopped.  The  engine  and 
baggage- car  were  thrown  from  the  track,  but  our 
speed  was  so  slow  that  no  one  was  hurt. 

Charley  Moody,  my  baggage- master,  was  a  comical 
genius  who  stammered  badly.  He  was  nearly 


64  FORTY  YEARS  ON  THE  RAIL. 

frightened  to  death  at  the  accident,  and  when  I  asked 
him  what  he  thought  when  the  baggage-car  was 
climbing  up  the  rocks,  he  stuttered  out:  "  I 
th-th— thought  it  was  the  se-se-second  co-co-coming." 
One  day  we  ran  into  a  wash  out  near  Arlington,  where 
the  embankment  had  sunk  in.  We  jumped  it  all 
right,  but  Moody  was  so  startled  that  he  made  a  flyingf 
leap  from  the  car  door  and  slid  down  the  bank  for 
seventy  or  eighty  feet  into  the  water  below.  We 
stopped  and  then  went  back  for  him,  expecting  to  find 
his  dead  body,  or  at  the  best  hoping  he  might  have 
escaped  with  a  broken  leg  or  arm  and  no  more  serious 
injuries,  but  we  found  him  scrambling  up  the 
embankment  and  starting,  down  the  track  plastered 
with  mud  fronrhead  to  foot. 

"  What  did  you  think,  Charley,  when  you  found 
yourself  sliding  down  the  hill  ?  "  I  asked  him. 

"Th-th -think?  Th  -  th  -  think  ?"  he  answered. 
"  Wh-wh-what  did  I  th-think?  I  tli-th-thought  the 
mi-mi-millennium  had  come." 

We  three  conductors,  Dunlap,  Burdette  and  I,  gave 
a  ball  at  the  Orvis  House  at  Manchester,  Yermont, 
at  one  time.  We  were  given  the  freedom  of  the  house 
for  the  night  by  the  genial  proprietor,  and  conductors 
were  there  from  the  New  York  Central,  the  Vermont 
Central,  the  Kutland  and  Burlington,  the  Hudson 
River  and  other  roads,  the  company  numbering  about 


REMINISCENCES    OF    OTHER    DAYS. 


05 


THE  MEDFOBD  TRAIN.— Page  55. 

thirty  couples  in  all.  Everything 
—wine,  brandy,  cigars,  supper — was 
included  in  the  bill,  and  we  had  a  grand 
time,  as  may  well  be  expected.  When  the 
ladies  had  retired,  about  two  o'clock  in  the 
morning  Dunlap  and  a  few  others,  including  myself,  sat 
up  "  to  make  a  night  of  it,"  as  we  all  said.  Having 
been  given  the  freedom  of  the  place,  we  made  ourselves 
perfectly  at  home,  as  we  felt  at  liberty  to  do.  We 
went  up  into  the  attic  where  we  found  a  lot  of  old 


66  FOKTY  YEARS  ON  THE  BAIL. 

revolutionary  accoutrements,  such  as  hats,  bayonets, 
old  swords,  and  the  like.  After  a  great  deal  of  fun, 
we  dressed  Dunlap  in  some  outlandish  fashion,  put  a 
sword  in  his  hand  and  proclaimed  him  captain. 
Having  formed  a  mock  military  company,  we  marched 
with  great  state  and  noise  to  the  rooms  of  those  con- 
ductors who  had  dared  to  go  to  bed.  We  routed  them 
out  and  made  them  join  us  in  the  night's  sport,  that 
only  ended  with  the  rising  of  the  sun. 

We  were  not  in  very  good  condition  for  work  in 
the  morning,  our  heads  feeling  a  little  larger  than  usual, 
so  the  three  of  us  got  permission  from  Mr.  Johnson  to 
let  our  baggagemen  take  our  runs.  The  president  of 
the  road  lived  at  Manchester,  and  when  we  reached 
the  station  he  saw  us  and  inquired  who  was  running 
our  trains.  We  managed  to  make  it  all  right  with 
him,  so  our  night's  fun  cost  us  nothing  more  serious 
than  aching  heads. 

Old  Uncle  Daniel  Curtiss,  as  the  trainmen  all 
called  him,  was  an  eccentric  station  agent  at  North 
Dorset,  Yermont.  He  never  wore  a  hat  in  summer  or 
winter,  rough  or  pleasant  weather.  He  was  known 
far  and  near  for  his  eccentricity  and  often  went  to 
Troy,  New  York,  sixty  miles,  and  back  bare-headed. 
Before  the  railroad  was  built,  he  frequently  trudged 
between  these  two  towns  on  foot,  but  he  was  never 
under  any  circumstances  seen  with  a  hat  on.  It  was 


REMINISCENCES    OF    OTHER    DAYS.  67 

his  custom  to  have  a  dance  at  his  house  every  winter, 
and  on  one  occasion  he  invited  Dunlap,  Johnson  and 
myself  to  attend.  It  was  amusing  to  us  to  watch  the 
country  lads  and  lassies  who  had  come  down  from  the 
mountains  to  have  a  night's  fun.  Some  of  the  girls 
being  at  least  six  feet  in  height,  dancing  was  a  rather 
hard  task  for  us  boys  who  were  so  much  shorter.  Uncle 
Daniel  drew  us  aside  and  whispered  to  us  during  the 
evening  that  he  had  bought  some  extra  fine  brandy 
especially  for  us,  and  had  actually  paid  seventy-five 
cents  a  gallon  for  it.  It  is  almost  needless  to  remark 
that,  although  Ave  enjoyed  the  evening  hugely,  we 
indulged  but  sparingly  in  the  brandy. 

One  day  I  happened  to  be  on  Dunlap' s  train  when 
we  accomplished  a  remarkable  and  daring  feat,  the  like 
of  Avhich  was  probably  never  known  before  and  doubt- 
less has  not  been  since.  The  train  consisted  of  a  bag- 
gage-car and  two  passenger  coaches,  with  the  engine 
"General  Stark,"  but  recently  built  at  the  Lawrence 
Locomotive  Works.  The  engineer  was  "Dick"  Allen, 
now  known  to  the  world  as  Kichard  Norton  Allen,  the 
inventor  of  the  famous  paper  car- wheel  called  by  his 
name,  and  a  wealthy  capitalist  of  Cleveland.  About 
five  miles  from  Bennington,  the  train  ran  over  a  steer 
and  the  engine  and  two  cars  were  thrown  off  the 
track.  It  seemed  to  me  that  the  only  way  to  get  another 
engine  was  to  run  a  hand-car  or  walk. 


68  FORTY    YEARS    ON    THE    RAIL. 

"What's  to  be  done,  Dunlap?  "   I  said. 

"  I'll  tell  you,"  lie  replied,  "it's  nearly  all  down 
grade  to  Bennington,  so  let's  uncouple  the  last  car 
and  run  her  back  to  the  station." 

In  these  days,  anything  like  that  would  cost  a  man 
his  position,  but  in  the  olden  time  quick  expedients 
and  great  risks  were  often  necessary.  When  the 
passengers  got  out  of  the  rear  coach,  Dunlap,  a 
brakemaii  named  Downer  and  I  took  the  uncoupled 
car  and  started  off.  We  went  along  finely  from  the 
first,  half  doubting  what  we  should  do  when  we  got 
to  a  piece  of  up-grade  that  must  be  passed.  However, 
fortune  was  in  our  favor,  and  the  momentum  we  had 
gained  took  us  over  the  rise  of  ground  and  on  to  the 
down-grade  again.  A  wandering  cow  next  threatened 
us  and  as  we  stood  on  the  platform,  with  shouts  and 
gesticulations  we  managed  to  frighten  off  the  intrud- 
ing animal,  and  soon  afterward  our  car  rolled  in 
triumph  into  Bemiingtoii  station.  With  a  relief 
engine  we  started  back  to  the  scene  of  the  accident, 
pulled  the  other  engine  on  the  track  and  went  on  to 
Rutland  at  a  terrific  speed.  The  "General  Stark" 
did  noblv,  for  we  made  our  time  and  connection  with 

V     ' 

the  Rutland  and  Burlington  train  going  north,  while 
the  daring  deed  was  the  talk  in  railroad  circles  far 
and  near. 

I   can  remember  a  couple   of    fast   runs  that  were 


REMINISCENCES    OF    OTHER    DAYS.  69 

made  while  I  was  railroading  in  Vermont,  which 
excited  a  great  deal  of  interest,  being  thought  remark 
able  in  those  early  days.  While  John  S.  Dunlap  was 
superintendent  of  the  Kutland  and  Burlington  road  in 
1853,  the  government  was  about  to  let  a  contract  for 
carrying  the  mail,  and  trial  trips  were  to  be  made  by 
trains  on  the  Vermont  Central  and  the  Rutland  and 
Burlington  roads,  the  road  showing  the  fastest  time 
receiving  the  contract. 

Superintendent  Dunlap  called  Silas  Pearce,  one  of 
his  best  engineers,  into  the  private  office  one  day. 

"  Pearce,"  he  said,  slowly  and  deliberately,  "  tke 
government  is  going  to  give  that  contract  to  the  road 
making  the  fastest  time.  I  want  you  to  make  the  run 
and  I  want  that  contract.  Do  you  understand?" 

"Yes,  sir,"  respectfully  replied  the  engineer,  as  he 
touched  his  cap  and  left  the  room. 

Pearce  took  especial  pains  to  see  that  his  engine 
was  in  perfect  order,  and  when  he  made  the  run  he 
beat  all  previous  records  between  Bellows  Falls  and 
Burlington,  and  easily  secured  the  contract. 

In  the  same  year  the  run  was  made  from  Troy  to 
Rutland,  a  distance  of  eighty-five .  miles,  over  the 
Western  Vermont  and  the  Troy  and  Boston  roads,  in 
what  was  then  considered  the  unusual  time  of  two  hours 
and  thirty-five  minutes,  making  four  stops  and  chang- 
ing engines  twice. 


70  FORTY  YEAES  ON  THE  BAIL. 

I  well  remember  about  thirty  years  ago,  that  there 
was  a  railroad  called  the  New  Albany  and  Salem, 
which  was  proverbial  for  being  poor  and  for  paying 
small  wages.  It  became  a  laughing  stock  and  a 
by- word  among  railroad  men,  and  it  used  to  be  said 
that  a  passenger  would  never  live  to  get  over  the  road, 
as  accidents  were  so  frequent.  One  day  a  conductor 
of  that  line  got  on  board  Chauncey  Bowies'  train  on 
the  Michigan  Southern  road.  The  poor  fellow  wore  a 
dilapidated  hat,  had  holes  in  his  shoes,  was  out  at  the 
elbows,  and  had  a  most  woe-begone  expression  of 
countenance.  When  Chauncey  came  along  for  tickets 
the  man  handed  him  a  letter  stating  that  he  was  a 
passenger  conductor  on  the  New  Albany  road.  The 
letter  being  written  and  signed  by  the  superintendent 
of  that  line,  Chauncey  accepted  it.  A  few  seats  away 
sat  the  superintendent  of  the  Michigan  Southern,  who 
asked  Chauncey  who  that  seedy-looking  man  was,  and 
why  he  had  passed  him. 

"  That,  sir,  is  a  passenger  conductor  on  the  New 
Albany  and  Salem.  The  poor  fellow  only  gets  twenty- 
five  dollars  a  month,  and  boards  and  clothes  himself." 

"  That's  right,  Chauncey,  pass  him.  Heaven  knows 
he  needs  it,"  said  the  superior  officer. 

In  closing  this  chapter  of  reminiscences  of  my 
railroad  experiences  in  New  England,  I  shall  give  an 
incident  which  shows  how  true  is  the  oft-repeated 


REMINISCENCES    OF    OTHER    DAYS.  71 

saying  that  our  occupations  leave  their  impress  upon 
us,  and  that  impress  stays  with  us  to  our  latest  hour. 
Dennis  Smart,  one  of  the  conductors  on  the  old  Boston 
and  Maine  road,  whom  I  had  known  long  and  well, 
died  a  few  years  ago.  Kind  friends  gathered  about 
his  bedside  to  go  with  him  as  far  as  they  could  on  his 
new  journey.  For  a  long  time  they  waited  in  silence, 
to  take  the  last  farewell  of  the  veteran  conductor. 
Finally  the  features  of  their  friend  lighted  up  with 
something  akin  to  the  light  that  once  shone  there, 
and  raising  his  hands  in  the  old  familiar  way,  rang 
out  the  words  from  those  dying  lips,  ''All  aboard  !  " 
The  arm  dropped;  all  was  still;  Dennis  had  passed  to 
the  other  life. 


CHAPTEE  V. 

WESTWARD. 

After  the  century  passed  its  middle  point,  the 
attention  of  the  East  became  more  and  more  called  to 
the  Mississippi  Valley,  with  its  possibilities  for 
growth  and  the  accumulation  of  wealth.  Eailroads 
began  to  creep  mile  on  mile  towards  the  great  river, 
and  eastern  capital  flowed  into  western  enterprises. 
One  city  above  all  others  now  began  to  be  the  point 
to  which  attention  was  turned  from  all  sides.  Chicago 
had  arisen  by  this  time  to  the  dignity  of  a  population 
of  thirty-four  thousand  souls,  and  capitalists  saw  that 
she  was  necessary  to  the  development  of  the  West,  or, 
as  some  one  has  said,  "  that  the  wealth  of  the  West 
must  flow  through  her  as  the  sand  must  through  the 
neck  of  an  hour-glass." 

The  pioneer  railroad  of  the  Garden  City,  the 
Galena  and  Chicago  Union,  had  in  1850  reached 
Elgin,  a  distance  of  forty-two  miles.  Next  was  pro- 
jected the  Illinois  Central.  In  1850,  Hon.  Stephen 
A.  Douglas  had  obtained  the  passage  of  an  act  of 
Congress,  granting  to  Illinois  every  alternate  section 

72 


WESTWARD. 


73 


of  land  to  a  distance  of  six  miles  on  each  side  of  the 
line  of  a  railroad  which  was  to  be  constructed.  The 
original  grant  of  land  was  2,595,000  acres.  In  1851, 
the  Legislature  chartered  the  Illinois  Central  Rail- 
road Company,  transferring  the  lands  to  it,  and,  in 
1852,  the  officers  of  the  road  got  permission  to  enter 
Chicago  along  the  lake  shore. 

From  the  east  the  first  road  to  approach  the  city 
was  the  Michigan  Central.  St.  Joseph,  Michigan,  was 
for  some  time  the  terminus  of  railroad  travel  west- 
ward Travelers  generally  crossed  the  lake  from  that 
city  to  Chicago,  and  St.  Joseph  was  connected  by 
stage  with  the  moving  end  of  the  track  that  was 
approaching  from  Detroit.  In  1852,  the  last  rail  of 
the  Michigan  Central  road  was  laid  into  Chicago.  In 
the  meantime  the  people  of  northern  Indiana  con- 
structed a  rival  line  from  Toledo,  and  this  entered  the 
Garden  City  just  three  months  before  its  Michigan 
rival.  Other  roads  followed  in  quick  succession,  and 
Chicago  soon  became  the  center  of  a  network  of  rail- 
roads that  led  out  to  almost  every  point  of  the 

9 

compass. 

There  were  three  or  four  years  when  the  mania  for 
railroad  building  ran  high.  In  January,  1852,  only 
about  forty  miles  of  road  connected  with  Chicago,  and 
at  the  end  of  twenty  months  the  mileage  had  increased 
forty  fold.  During  this  era  nearly  all  the  extensions 


74  FORTY  YEARS  ON  THE  RAIL. 

and  connections  that  were  carried  out  in  the  following 
twenty  years  were  planned,  and  most  of  them  were 
completed  as  originally  designed.  The  Illinois  and 
Wisconsin  Railroad  Company  was  incorporated  in  1851 ; 
the  Chicago  and  Milwaukee  road  was  built  in  1854; 
the  Chicago  and  Rock  Island  was  commenced  in  1852; 
the  line  to  St.  Louis  was  begun  in  1853;  the  Chicago 
and  Aurora  was  inaugurated  in  1852;  the  Pittsburg, 
Fort  Wayne  and  Chicago,  furnishing  the  third  route  to 
the  East,  was  incorporated  in  1852.  Well  may  these 
years  be  entitled  the  Eailway  Era  of  the  Garden  City. 
The  tide  of  emigration  set  in  with  the  laying  of 
rails,  and  so  strong  was  the  current  from  Europe  and 
from  the  Eastern  States,  that  it  was  impossible  to 
keep  track  of  their  numbers.  Men  of  push  who  had 
their  fortunes  yet  to  make,  as  well  as  men  of  means 
who  sought  investment,  gave  up  their  homes  in  older 
communities  to  establish  others  in  the  new.  Railroad 
officials  and  employees  were  caught  in  the  prevailing 
fever,  and  large  numbers  of  them  soon  became 
identified  with  the  western  roads.  As  the  tide  had  set 
in  to  New  York  State  when  the  old  Erie  line  was 
opened,  so  it  set  in  towards  Chicago  in  the  early 
fifties.  How  much  the  city  grew  under  the  impetus 
thus  given  is  shown  from  the  fact  that  her  population 
increased  from  about  thirty-nine  thousand  people  in 
1852,  to  nearly  sixty  thousand  in  1853,  a  gain  of 
almost  fifty-three  per  cent,  in  a  single  year. 


WESTWARD.  75 

It  would  be  impossible  to  name  even  a  fraction  of 
those  who  left  the  roads  with  which  I  had  been 
identified  in  New  England  to  take  positions  on  lines 
tributary  to  Chicago.  As  more  and  more  left  us,  I 
began  to  think  seriously  of  trying  my  luck  with  them ; 
accordingly,  when  in  1854,  Walter  S.  Johnson,  who 
had  left  Vermont  to  become  superintendent  of  the 
Chicago  and  Aurora  railroad,  sent  for  me  to  take  a 
train  011  his  new  line,  I  was  prepared  to  accept  his 
proposition. 

I  started  for  Chicago  soon  afterward,  but  on  my 
arrival  at  Cleveland  I  picked  up  a  morning  paper  and 
read  of  the  terrible  scourge  of  cholera  that  was  killing 
off  Chicago  people  by  the  hundreds,  so  I  took  the  first 
train  for  home.  A  few  months  later,  accompanied  by 
my  wife  and  children,  I  once  again  started  West,  arriv  - 
ing  in  Chicago  on  February  12,  1855.  A  terrible  snow 
storm  was  raging  at  the  time,  and  the  city  was  by  no 
means  an  attractive  place.  Under  the  unfavorable 
circumstances  I  first  saw  it,  I  did  not  dream  that  even 
in  my  day  this  western  town  would  not  only  boast  of 
possessing  some  among  the  most  palatial  residences  and 
hotels  and  most  costly  business  structures  in  the 
world,  but  would  have  a  population  of  nearly  a  million 
souls,  with  a  fair  prospect  of  becoming  the  metropolis 
of  the  Western  Continent. 

We  spent  only  one  day  in  Chicago  at  the   time  of 


76  FORTY  YEARS  ON  THE  RAIL. 

which  I  speak,  and  then  went  to  Aurora,  Illinois, 
where  Superintendent  Johnson  had  appointed  me 
station  agent,  C.  C.  Wheeler,  who  was  also  from 
Vermont,  being  ticket  agent.  Before  long  Mr.  John- 
son went  to  what  was  then  called  the  Chicago  and 
Milwaukee  road,  and  soon  I  followed  him  to  his  new 
line. 

Before  proceeding  farther  with  my  personal  remi- 
niscences in  the  West,  I  will  say  a  few  words  about 
the  great  railway  system  with  which  I  became 
identified  at  the  time  of  which  I  have  just  spoken. 
The  road  then  only  extended  from  Chicago  to  the  Wis- 
consin State  line,  where  it  connected  with  the  Green 
Bay  and  Milwaukee  road.  This  was  the  beginning  of 
the  great  Chicago  and  North-Western  railway,  which, 
by  consolidation  of  small  lines  and  by  extension,  has 
now  become  one  of  the  finest,  as  well  as  one  of  the  most 
profitable  systems  in  the  world,  consisting  of  over  six 
thousand  miles  of  track.  In  1859,  the  North-Western 
was  formed  from  several  roads,  with  William  B.  Ogden 
as  president,  Perry  H.  Smith,  vice-president,  and 
George  L.  Dunlap,  superintendent,  the  latter  becoming 
general  manager  in  a  few  years,  when  John  C.  Gault 
succeeded  to  the  superintendency. 

Many  of  the  leading  officers  of  this  vast  railway  sys- 
tem have  been  associated  with  its  history  from  early 
days,  and  are  closely  identified  with  its  progress.  Their 


WESTWARD.  77 

names  have  become  known  all  over  the  world  and  are 
almost  household  words  in  the  West. 

M.  L.  Sykes  has  been  with  the  road  since  1858, 
succeeding:  W.  S.  Johnson  at  that  time.  He  was 

o 

superintendent  during  that  and  the  two  succeeding 
years,  and  for  about  twenty  years  has  been  its  vice- 
president.  He  still  holds  the  last  named  office,  and  is 
also  secretary  and  treasurer,  with  headquarters  at 
New  York  city. 

Edward  J.  Cuyler  was  with  the  road  in  1855  as 
construction  paymaster.  He  then  became  a  sort  of 
pioneer  station-agent,  being  assigned  to  the  various 
denned  termini  as  rapidly  as  the  track  was  laid  to 
such  stations.  In  1804,  he  became  assistant  superin- 
tendent of  the  Galena  division  with  his  headquarters 
at  Chicago,  and,  since  1876,  he  has  been  superintend- 
ent of  the  Wisconsin  division. 

C.  C.  Wheeler  was  general  superintendent  of  the 
old  Chicago  and  Milwaukee  railroad  before  its  consoli- 
dation with  the  North-  Western,  and  Avhen  the  latter 
change  was  made  he  became  general  freight  agent. 
Leaving  the  North-Western  for  some  years,  he 
returned  to  it  as  assistant  general  superintendent, 
and,  in  1880,  became  its  assistant  general  manager. 
From  December.  1883,  to  August,  1887,  he  filled  the 
position  of  general  superintendent  of  the  same  road, 
Sherb.  Sanborn,  who  has  been  with  the  road  since 
1874,  succeeding  Mr.  Wheeler  at  that  time. 


78  FORTY    YEARS    ON    THE    RAIL. 

Marshall  M.  Kirkmaii  in  1856  was  a  messenger 
boy,  then  he  became  telegraph  operator,  then  train- 
dispatcher.  In  1860,  he  was  placed  at  the  head  of  the 
freight  accounting  department,  entering  the  general 
freight  department  in  1864.  He  afterward  had  charge 
of  the  freight  traffic  accounts,  then  of  all  accounts  and 
local  finances,  finally  becoming  comptroller  of  this  great 
railroad  in  1881. 

Among  those  who  entered  the  service  of  the  road 
later,  are  Charles  E.  Simmons,  who  has  been  con- 

• 

nected  with  the  land  department  since  1876,  being  its 
land  commissioner  since  1878.  Marvin  Hughitt 
became  connected  with  the  road  in  1872  as  general 
superintendent,  then  was  second  vice-president,  then 
general  manager,  and  is  now  president. 

With  such  men  as  these,  and  the  many  others  of 
marked  ability  whom  only  lack  of  space  forbids  my 
mentioning,  surely  the  Chicago  and  North-Western 
Kailway  Company  is  ably  guided,  and  has  a  brilliant 
future  before  it.  The  old  road  has  been  a  friend  to 
me  for  many  a  long  year,  and  with  all  my  heart  I  say, 
"  Good  luck  to  her  !  " 

After  a  stay  of  four  months  at  Aurora,  as  I  have 
already  said,  I  followed  Mr.  Johnson  to  his  new  field 
of  labor.  At  first  I  was  station-agent  at  Waukegan, 
Illinois,  and  after  about  six  weeks  became  conductor 
on  the  road,  the  two  other  conductors  being  W.  G. 
Denison  and  Luther  Perin. 


WESTWARD.  79 

While  station-agent  at  Waukegan  I  established 
what  was  among  the  first,  if  not  the  first  station  eating- 
house  in  the  United  States.  This  is  the  way  it  came 
about. 

My  wife,  who  was  a  thrifty  New  England  house- 
keeper and  noted  for  the  excellence  of  her  cooking, 
began  to  bake  a  few  pies,  a  little  cake,  and  some 
doughnuts  for  "  the  boys "  who  wanted  some  such 
refreshments.  I  had  these  articles  set  out  on  a  little 
table  for  sale.  One  day  Superintendent  Johnson 
stopped  at  the  station,  and  noticed  this  lunch-stand, 
with  its  modest,  yet  appetizing  display. 

"Who's  this  for?"   asked  Mr.  Johnson. 

"  For  anybody  who'll  buy,"  I  replied. 

"  That's  a  good  idea,"  he  said,  "  a  good  idea.  You 
can  have  one  end  of  the  station  for  a  lunch-counter,  if 
you  want  it,  Charley." 

So  I  fitted  up  a  neat  little  refectory  at  one  end  of 
the  dingy  old  station,  and  Mr.  Johnson  and  the  train- 
men soon  got  into  the  habit  of  lunching  there  every 
time  they  stopped.  The  superintendent  had  the  con- 
ductors and  the  brakemen  announce  refreshments  on 
their  trains  just  before  reaching  Waukegan,  and  it 
was  not  long  before  there  was  a  large  and  regular 
patronage.  Within  a  year,  the  place  was  known  from 
Maine  to  Minnesota  for  its  neatness  and  excellent 
cooking.  I  ran  the  eating-house  seventeen  years, 


80  FORTY  YEARS  ON  THE  RAIL. 

fifteen  of  which  I  was  a  conductor  on  the  road,  and  in 
all  that  time  I  never  lost  a  day's  pay  on  the  pay-roll, 
though  I  was  off  duty  from  two  to  six  weeks  a  year. 
Times  have  changed  since,  and  now-a-days  when  a 
man  is  off  duty  he  loses  his  pay. 

My  passengers  on  the  road  were  constantly  doing 
kind  things  to  help  my  eating-house  along,  making 
suggestions  or  giving  presents  as  occasions  came  up. 
I  may  here  mention  that  on  few  runs  are  so  many  fine 
people  to  be  met  as  those  I  came  in  contact  with 
during  my  long  experience  on  the  Waukegaii  train. 
The  university  at  Evanston  attracts  to  that  educational 
center  people  of  culture  and  refinement,  while  other 
towns  along  the  line  can  boast  of  citizens  no  less  dis- 
tinguished. Judges,  lawyers,  doctors,  college  pro- 
fessors, and  statesmen  rode  with  me  every  day.  Some 
of  my  passengers  are  mentioned  on  various  pages  of 
this  book,  but  there  are  others  to  whom  I  would  like 
to  give  at  least  a  passing  notice.  Lyman  J.  Gage 
rode  with  me  for  many  years.  He  is  now  at  the  head 
of*  one  of  the  richest  banks  in  the  nation,  the  First 
National  Bank  of  Chicago.  Mr.  Gage  receives  the 
largest  salary  of  any  banker  in  the  United  States,  and 
is  known  all  over  Europe  as  being  at  the  head  of  this 
line  of  business.  Ex-Governor  Beveridge  was  for  a 
long  time  one  of  my  passengers.  When  first  I  knew 
him  he  was  a  lawyer.  Entering  the  army  at  the  out- 


WESTWARD.  81 

break  of  the  rebellion,  lie  became  a  general,  and  in 
after  years  was  elected  governor  of  Illinois.  He  has 
since  been  collector  of  the  port  of  Chicago. 

Among  the  most  successful  business  men  who  lived 
on  my  road  were  James  S.  Kirk  and  Dr.  Y.  C.  Price. 
Mr.  Kirk's  business  has  something  of  historical 
interest  connected  with  it,  the  site  of  his  manufactory 
being  the  spot  where  the  first  house  in  Chicago  was 
located,  when  the  place  was  a  mere  Indian  trading 
post.  On  that  site  Mr.  Kirk  started  a  humble  business 
over  thirty  years  ago.  To-day  the  mammoth  soap 
works  of  James  S.  Kirk  and  Sons  astonish  the  world, 
their  like  in  size  and  volume  of  business  not  being 
found  elsewhere.  My  good  old  friend  has  passed 
away  since  I  left  my  old  road,  but  his  seven  sons  most 
worthily  conduct  the  enterprise  which  their  father 
founded. 

Dr.  Price,  of  whom  I  have  just  spoken,  was  the 
originator  of  the  famous  Price's  baking  powder,  and 
his  success  has  been  as  phenomenal  as  that  of  so 
many  of  the  enterprising  men  of  the  Giant  City  of  the 
West.  I  can  well  remember  the  day  when  Dr.  Price 
gave  me  one  of  the  first  cans  of  powder  that  he  made. 
My  wife  always  used  this  preparation  in  her  cooking, 
and  often  attributed  a  great  part  of  the  success  of  our 
eating-house  to  this  fact. 

It  would  be  impossible  for  me  to  enumerate  all  the 
6 


82  FORTY  YEARS  ON  THE  RAIL. 

noted  and  successful  men  who  rode  on  my  Waukegan 
train,  but  I  ought  not  to  omit  mentioning  John  Y. 
Farwell,  well  known  for  his  work  in  the  Young  Men's 
Christian  Association,  and  Charles  B.  Farwell,  who 
succeeded  our  dead  hero,  John  A.  Logan,  as  United 
States  senator. 

My  eating-house  caused  quite  a  change  in  my 
church  associations.  After  several  years  of  railroading, 
I  joined  the  Methodist  Episcopal  church,  my  wife 
also  being,  a  member,  and  my  children  were  in  the 
Sunday  school  Among  the  various  articles  for  sale 
at  our  little  refectory  was  ale.  Not  long  after,  a 
committee  of  church  members  waited  upon  me  and 
informed  me  that  I  must  stop  the  sale  of  this  beverage 
at  my  place. 

"  Gentlemen,"  I  said  quietly,  "  I  went  into  the 
church  with  ale,  and  I  can  go  out  with  ale.  I  am 
sorry  I  cannot  oblige  you." 

Shortly  afterward  I  joined  the  Presbyterian  church 
of  the  town,  where  I  remained  twelve  years,  most  of 
the  time  being  leader  of  the  choir. 

In  1859,  at  Waukegan,  I  identified  myself  with  the 
Masonic  fraternity,  in  that  year  becoming  a  Master 
Mason.  In  the  two  following  years  I  took  the  degrees 
of  Royal  Arch  Mason  and  Knight  Templar.  I  am 
still  a  member  of  Waukegan,  Lodge  No.  78,  F.  &  A.  M., 
of  Chapter  No.  41,  E.  A.  M.,  and  of  Commandery  No. 


WESTWARD.  83 

12,  K.  T.  My  Masonic  associations  have  been  most 
pleasant,  and,  being  always  an  active  worker  in  the 
order,  I  have  thus  come  in  contact  with  some  of  the 
noblest  and  the  most  efficient  men  I  ever  met.  Thus 
I  have  formed  many  warm  and  lasting  friendships, 
and  from  that  connection  come  to  me  now  delight- 
ful reminiscences  of  people  and  events  that  have 
done  most  to  brighten  my  life. 

All  the  time  I  was  running  the  Waukegan  train,  I 
had  only  one  or  two  accidents  and  those  were  not  of  a 
serious  nature.  The  first  happened  in  this  way.  A 
freight  had  made  an  effort  to  run  from  "Winnetka  to 
Evanston,  but  my  engineer  thinking  it  was  side- 
tracked at  Winnetka,  ran  into  it.  Little  damage  was 
done  and  one  passenger  was  slightly  hurt.  Indeed, 
with  all  my  railroading  I  never  had  a  'serious  accident, 
where  a  passenger  was  killed,  or  much  damage  was 
done,  and  the  only  personal  injury  I  ever  received  was 
in  1848  while  making  a  coupling  on  an  engine  at 
Great  Falls.  My  little  finger  was  badly  crushed,  but 
refusing  to  allow  it  to  be  amputated,  the  doctor  suc- 
ceeded in  saving  the  finger. 

Back  in  1856,  while  running  on  the  Chicago  and 
Milwaukee  road,  with  a  train  made  up  of  twenty 
freight  cars,  a  baggage-car  and  a  passenger  coach,  the 
second  and  third  cars  jumped  out  of  the  train  entirely, 
leaving  the  other  cars  behind  them  and  landing  in  the 


84  FORTY  YEARS  ON  THE  RAIL. 

ditch,  where  they  lay  exactly  opposite  each  other.  No 
damage  was  done  to  the  rest  of  the  cars,  and  the 
train  was  not  stopped  by  the  accident.  In  fact,  it  was 
such  a  peculiar  occurrence  that  I  could  scarcely 
believe  that  the  cars  belonged  to  my  train  until  I 
had  examined  the  way-bills.  No  explanation  of  the 
cause  of  their  jumping  off  the  track  was  ever  made 
that  seemed  plausible. 

This  reminds  me  of  another  phenomenal  jump  in 
my  experience,  which  took  place  near  Boston.  We 
were  running  in  over  a  double  tracked  road,  when  the 
engine  jumped  to  the  second  track,  every  wheel 
landing  on  the  rails,  and  we  ran  side  by  side  for  over 
a  hundred  yards. 

My  experience  with  trainwreckers  has  been  limited. 
One  day  while  on  the  Waukegan  run,  a  man  in  a  fit  of 
delirium  tremens  rushed  out  in  front  of  the  train  and 
the  engine  ran  down  on  him,  injuring  him  so  that  he 
died  in  a  few  hours.  His  brother,  Mike  Sweeny,  tried 
to  throw  my  train  off  the  track  several  times  after 
that  in  revenge.  He  placed  obstructions  on  the  track 
at  different  places,  but  fortunately  he  never  succeeded 
in  his  malicious  designs.  The  Pinkerton  detectives 
finally  caught  him  chaining  ties  across  the  rails,  and 
he  was  sent  to  prison. 

In  my  early  days  on  the  Waukegan  road,  I  had  an 
engineer  who  was  as  devoted  to  his  bottle  as  to  his 


86  FORTY  YEARS  ON  THE  RAIL. 

engine.  One  night  when  it  was  time  for  me  to  pull 
out  I  found  I  had  no  engineer.  I  called  out  "  all 
aboard "  with  my  usual  vigor,  and  when  we  failed  to 
start  up,  I  jumped  off  the  train  to  investigate  into  the 
cause  of  our  delay.  Superintendent  Johnson  stood  on 
the  platform,  and  he  asked : 

"What's  the  matter,  Charley?" 

"  I  don't  know,"  I  answered,   "  but  I'll   soon  see." 

Mr.  Johnson  walked  with  me  to  the  engine,  and 
there  we  found  that  the  engineer  had  not  been  around 
all  day. 

"  I'll  fix  that,"  said  Colonel  Johnson  pulling  the 
whistle.  In  a  moment  the  delinquent  came  walking 
toward  the  engine. 

"Who  pulled  that  whistle?  "  said  the  fellow  to  me 
in  a  blustering  tone. 

"  Go  and  see,"  I  replied,  and  he  walked  down  the 
platform  to  find  out. 

No  other  engineer  being  at  hand,  the  superintend- 
ent simply  gave  the  man  a  severe  reprimand  and  let 
him  go  ahead.  I  gave  the  fireman  strict  orders  to  do 
all  he  could  to  watch  the  engine  and  avoid  accidents. 
It  was  a  dangerous  run.  We  dashed  over  crossings 
contrary  to  orders,  and  ran  on  a  schedule  of  our  own 
throughout  the  journey.  It  was  the  last  run  that 
engineer  ever  made  on  the  road.  He  was  discharged 
the  next  morning. 


WESTWABD.  87 

I  can  remember  another  experience  I  had  with  this 
same  engineer.  It  was  in  1855,  and  we  were  taking 
out  three  cars  full  of  children,  bound  for  Evanston 
where  they  were  to  have  a  picnic.  The  engineer  was 
intoxicated,  but  none  of  us  knew  it  at  the  time.  When 
he  reached  Evanston,  instead  of  stopping,  he  ran 
straight  by  the  station  at  a  high  speed.  We  stopped 
the  train  with  the  brakes  as  soon  as  we  could,  the 
engineer  claiming  that  something  was  wrong  about 
the  throttle,  so  that  he  could  not  shut  off  steam. 
Fortunately  we  stopped  just  in  time,  for  another  train 
was  already  in  sight.  I  asked  the  fellow  what  in  the 
world  he  was  thinking  about  to  do  such  a  fool-hardy 
thing  as  that. 

"I  was  just  thinking,"  said  the  half -drunken 
man,  "  that  if  I  should  hit  that  train,  what  a  lot  of 
little  angels  these  children  would  make." 

Among  the  sad  reminiscences  of  my  Waukegan 
run  were  those  connected  with  the  many  funerals 
going  from  Chicago  to  Eosehill  and  Calvary  ceme- 
teries, which  are  among  the  largest  on  the  continent.  1 
remember  away  back  in  1866,  when  the  cholera  was 
raging  in  Chicago,  I  ran  one  of  the  largest  funeral 
trains  that  was  ever  known.  I  had  thirty  passenger 
cars  containing  over  two  thousand  people,  and  one 
freight  car  in  which  were  the  dead  bodies  of  forty 
persons  who  had  died  on  the  previous  day. 


88  FORTY    YEARS    ON    THE    RAIL. 

The  train  with  which  I  was  connected  so  many 
years  and  of  which  I  have  spoken  so  often,  ran  from 
Waukegan  to  Chicago  and  return  every  day,  and  was 
the  first  accommodation  train  that  ever  ran  out  of  the 
Garden  City.  When  I  began  on  this  run,  suburban 
traffic  was  in  its  infancy  in  the  West.  The  vast 
increase  in  Chicago's  population  was  then  undreamed 
of.  The  small  city  of  less  than  sixty  thousand 
people  lay  closely  built  along  the  river  and  lake, 
while  north,  south,  and  west  stretched  a  wide  expanse 
of  open  prairie,  broken  only  by  a  few  farms  and  per- 
haps a  little  village  here  and  there.  The  necessity 
for  life  outside  of  the  limits  had  not  yet  arisen.  It 
was  thought  a  great  thing  when  the  first  train  was  put 
on  to  accommodate  the  little  towns  along  the  lake 
shore,  and  it  was  only  by  great  effort  that  the  train 
was  kept  running  after  it  was  once  started,  so  strong 
was  the  opposition  of  the  directors  of  the  road.  I 
have  always  regarded  it  as  quite  a  coincidence  that  I 
should  have  had  so  much  to  do  with  the  starting  of 
suburban  traffic  both  in  Boston  and  in  Chicago,  the 
cities  next  to  New  York,  where  it  is  now  greatest  on 
this  continent. 

Superintendent  Johnson  was  a  progressive  man, 
always  on  the  alert  to  make  improvements,  and  he 
desired  to  accommodate  passengers  in  every  possible 
way.  When  I  went  on  the  road  we  only  had  four 


WESTWARD.  89 

engines  of  ten  tons  each  for  the  whole  service,  or  one- 
half  the  weight  of  a  single  locomotive  of  to-day.  In 
1857,  Colonel  Johnson  added  to  our  equipment  two 
fifteen-ton  engines,  larger  and  heavier  than  any  others 
on  the  road,  and  two  extra  large  passenger  coaches 
that  could  seat  seventy  passengers  each.  The  directors 
regarded  this  action  as  a  piece  of  extravagance,  but 
the  purchase  in  time  proved  a  wise  investment,  as 
subsequent  history  plainly  shows. 

After  the  Waukegan  train  had  run  about  a  year, 
the  directors  of  the  road  met  and  passed  a  resolution 
to  take  off  the  accommodation,  as  it  did  not  pay. 

"  That  will  never  do,"  Superintendent  Johnson 
instantly  remarked  when  he  heard  of  the  resolution. 
"  Charley,  you  have  had  a  great  deal  of  experience  in 
carrying  commutation  passengers  in  Boston;  come 
with  me  and  we'll  see  what  we  can  do  in  this  matter." 

We  went  before  the  directors  and  strongly  urged 
them  not  only  to  continue  the  train,  but  to  adopt  a 
more  liberal  policy  toward  their  patrons  in  the  way  of 
generous  concessions  in  fares  and  a  well  regulated 
time-table. 

"This  is  the  way  it  seems  tome,  gentlemen,"  I 
argued.  "When  a  lawyer  comes  to  town  and  hangs 
out  his  shingle,  he  does  not  get  clients  all  at  once. 
Months  pass  and  they  then  begin  to  come  in,  slowly 
it  is  true,  but  it  would  be  folly  to  take  down  the 


90  FORTY  YEAKS  ON  THE  BAIL. 

shingle  and  leave  town  just  as  business  showed  signs 
of  beginning,  even  if  it  didn't  pay  just  then." 

The  directors  asked  me  many  questions  about 
suburban  traffic  in  Boston,  and  I  stated  what  I  knew 
of  its  rise  and  steady  development. 

"  If  you  adopt  that  course,"  I  said  to  them,  "  it 
will  not  be  long  before  you'll  have  to  put  on  a  second 
train,  then  a  third,  and  a  fourth — in  fact,  there  is  no 
telling  where  it  will  stop." 

After  considerable  discussion,  the  directors  decided 
to  act  on  our  suggestions.  The  wisdom  of  their  de- 
cision has  been  proved  by  the  vast  increase  of  sub- 
urban traffic.  On  my  old  run,  where  a  single  small 
engine  and  one  coach  did  all  the  service  for  the  mere 
handful  of  patrons,  there  are  now  twenty-six  daily 
trains,  carrying  two  millions  and  a  quarter  of  passen- 
gers annually.  No  more  beautiful  and  flourishing 
suburban  towns  exist  in  the  world  than  Evanston, 
Winnetka,  Glencoe,  Highland  Park,  Lake  Forest, 
Waukegan,  and  others  along  this  line,  while  on  other 
branches  of  this  great  railway,  where  a  similar  liberal 
course  has  been  followed,  towns  scarcely  less  beautiful 
and  prosperous  have  sprung  up  over  the  wide  expanse 
of  prairie. 

In  the  service  of  the  suburban  branch  of  railroad- 
ing the  best  of  everything  is  now  devoted.  The  traffic 
has  been  reduced  to  a  system.  During  all  seasons, 


WESTWARD.  91 

notwithstanding  the  great  extremes  of  our  climate, 
there  is  hardly  a  variation  from  strict  schedule  time. 
Trains  run  during  twenty  hours  of  the  twenty-four, 
accommodating  all  classes  of  patrons.  Accidents  are 
reduced  to  a  minimum,  owing  to  good  management 
and  to  the  double-tracked  roads.  Elegant  cars,  fin- 
ished in  highly  polished  wood,  handsomely  cushioned 
and  well  lighted,  run  on  well  laid  and  carefully  kept 
tracks,  and  the  contrast  between  the  puny  engines  of 
my  early  days  on  the  road  and  the  present  locomotives 
strikingly  illustrates  the  progress  of  railroad  science. 
In  place  of  the  cheerless  shed  on  Cook  Street,  our  depot 
in  the  beginning,  to  which  suburban  patrons  of  our 
road  struggled  every  morning  and  evening,  through 
the  snows  of  winter,  the  deep  black  mud  of  spring  and 
fall,  and  clouds  of  dust  in  summer,  there  now  stands 
an  elegant  brick  structure  which  combines  all  modern 
improvements  in  point  of  beauty,  convenience  and 
comfort.  For  the  accommodation  of  all  classes  of 
travelers,  from  the  depot  run  lines  of  street  cars, 
countless  omnibuses,  hansoms  and  other  conveyances. 
In  few  things  connected  with  the  railway  service 
has  improvement  been  so  marked  as  in  the  omnibus 
and  baggage  transportation  facilities.  In  this  line 
Frank  Parmelee  stands  pre-eminent  in  Chicago,  if  not 
in  the  world.  Chicago  is  a  city  of  magnificent  dis- 
tances, with  its  depots  necessarily  far  apart;  it  is  the 


92  FOKTY  YEAKS  ON  THE  BAIL. 

greatest  railroad  center  on  the  globe,  is  the  chief  con- 
vention city  in  America,  and  has  a  trade  second  only 
to  New  York.  Such  a  metropolis  has  an  enormous 
transient  population,  and  to  meet  the  needs  of  this 
traveling  public  has  been  Mr.  Parmelee's  aim  from 
the  first.  How  well  he  has  succeeded,  millions  of 
people  can  testify.  Compared  with  the  lack  of  system 
in  handling  baggage  which  exists  in  England  and 
continental  Europe,  our  methods  are  too  far  ahead  to 
admit  comparison. 

In  1873,  my  Waukegan  eating-house  was  aban- 
doned for  lack  of  room,  and  because  the  establishment 
of  a  similar  house  in  Milwaukee  had  rendered  mine  a 
poor  location.  The  business  had  made  a  handsome 
profit,  and  with  the  money  thus  realized  I  had  made 
investments  in  real  estate  in  Chicago  and  elsewhere. 
I  was  lucky  in  these  investments,  and  considered 
myself  worth  about  fifty  thousand  dollars,  when  the 
Chicago  fire  of  1871  caused  me  to  lose  heavily.  I  had 
not  recovered  from  that  loss  when  the  financial  panic 
of  1873  came.  At  that  time  I  still  held  a  great  deal 
of  property,  and  hoping  for  a  favorable  turn  of  affairs, 
I  was  carrying  a  load  of  about  twenty  thousand  dollars 
in  debts  on  part  of  my  real  estate.  The  financial  crash 
made  it  impossible  to  sell  real  estate  except  at  a  ter- 
rible sacrifice,  and  my  affairs  became  so  tangled  that 
when  my  creditors  began  to  press  me  I  saw  the 


WESTWARD.  93 

savings  of  twenty  years  swept  away  at  a  breath.  The 
crash  left  me  deeply  buried  in  debts  that  since  then 
have  been  paid  dollar  for  dollar,  though  the  struggle 
has  been  a,  bitter  one. 

South  Evanston,  one  of  Chicago's  most  flourishing 
suburbs,  had  been  my  pet  project.  In  1867,  I  bought 
twenty-two  and  a  half  acres  of  land  there  and 
founded  that  well-known  village.  In  1872,  I  opened  a 
subdivision  of  forty-five  acres  in  Waukegan,  in  con- 
nection with  Merrill  Ladd,  who  had  also  been  with  me 
in  the  other  enterprise.  The  money  market  had  begun 
to  grow  tight  by  that  time,  and  when  we  offered  our 
new  property  for  sale  there  were  few  purchasers.  We 
had  put  all  our  available  money  into  this  project,  and 
now  found  it  impossible  to  stem  the  tide  that  had  set 
in  against  us.  My  partner  died  soon  afterward,  leav- 
ing but  the  remnant  of  an  estate  that  a  few  years 
before  had  promised  to  make  him  wealthy. 

In  1878,  just  about  the  time  I  had  reached  bottom 
rock  in  my  financial  troubles,  and  was  anxious  for  a 
new  opening,  I  met  A.  B.  Pullman. 

"  Can  you  give  me  one  of  your  hotel  cars  to  New 
York?"  I  asked  him. 

"  I  can  and  will,"  Mr.  Pullman  answered  heartily. 

Within  a  few  days  I  was  in  charge  of  one  of  the 
elegant  hotel  cars  on  the  New  York  and  Chicago  run. 
While  on  that  route  I  averaged  about  twelve  thousand 


94  FORTY  YEARS  ON  THE  RAIL. 

miles  a  month,  which  was  a  pretty  hard  task  in  itself, 
but  for  four  years  I  stuck  to  the  hotel  car. 

In  1882,  I  gave  up  the  New  York  run  and  went 
over  to  the  Chicago,  Milwaukee  and  St.  Paul  road, 
where  I  was  assigned  to  a  dining  car  when  the  road 
was  opened  from  Chicago  to  Council  Bluffs.  Many  of 
the  conductors  and  others  connected  with  the  line 
were  old  friends,  and  all  were  genial  companions,  so  I 
found  my  new  work  very  pleasant.  At  Omaha,  I  made 
my  home  at  the  Paxton  House,  and  to  its  worthy  pro- 
prietors, the  Kitchen  brothers,  I  owe  much  for  their 
hospitality. 

Among  the  officials  of  the  Council  Bluffs  run,  I 
desire  to  mention  a  few  with  whom  I  came  in  contact 
most.  H.  C.  Atkins,  for  a  long  time  superintendent, 
won  the  respect  and  love  of  all  as  few  men  have  done. 
When  he  died,  at  his  bier  men  wept  who  for  years 
had  not  shed  a  tear.  At  his  funeral,  which  was  the 
largest  ever  known  in  the  West,  hundreds  gathered 
from  all  over  the  country  to  follow  the  remains  of  the 
noble  man  to  his  last  resting  place.  Not  content  with 
tributes  of  flowers,  praises  of  his  merits  and  words  of 
kindness  and  sympathy  for  his  family,  friends  sought 
to  testify  their  appreciation  of  the  beloved  superin- 
tendent in  another  way,  presenting  Mrs.  Atkins  with 
upwards  of  thirty  thousand  dollars  as  a  slight  testi- 
monial of  what  their  hearts  desired  to  express.  A.  J. 


WESTWABD.  95 

Earling  succeeded  to  the  place  left  vacant  by  Mr. 
Atkins,  and  there  met  with  unequivocal  success.  He 
is  now  assistant  superintendent  of  the  road.  George 
O.  Clinton,  a  man  of  marked  ability,  is  superintendent 
of  the  Council  Bluffs  division.  F.  A.  Nash,  whom  I 
met  more  frequently  than  anyone  else  while  I  was  on 
the  Council  Bluffs  run,  ably  fills  the  position  of 
general  agent  for  the  West,  with  his  office  at  Omaha. 

I  was  connected  with  the  Pullman  company  on 
various  runs,  from  1878  to  1887,  and  of  the  officials  I 
chiefly  met  during  that  time,  I  can  speak  only  in  terms 
of  the  highest  praise.  E.  A.  Jewett  was  my  superin- 
tendent on  the  Chicago  division,  H.  S.  Billings  of  the 
Erie  division,  and  L.  M.  Bennett,  with  whom  I  had 
most  to  do  on  the  Council  Bluffs  run,  was  superin- 
tendent of  the  Pacific  division.  It  is  to  such  men  as 
these  that  the  great  organization,  of  which  I  have 
made  extended  mention  in  another  chapter,  owes  its 
world  renowned  prosperity  and  fame. 

I  have  thus  outlined  my  personal  experience  with 
the  railroad  systems  of  the  great  West.  When  I  stop 
to  think  of  the  changes  I  have  witnessed,  it  often 
seems  more  like  a  dream  than  a  reality.  The  watch- 
word of  civilization  all  this  time  has  been  "  West- 
ward," and  the  ''iron  horse"  has  been  the  main  factor 
in  this  progress.  I  have  seen  roads  of  a  few  miles 
extended  into  hundreds,  and  by  consolidation  these  in 


96  FOKTY  YEARS  ON  THE  BAIL. 

turn  formed  into  famous  trunk  lines  whose  like  do  not 
exist  elsewhere  in  the  world.  The  little  Chicago  and 
Aurora  road,  extending  only  to  Mendota,  Illinois, 
when  I  entered  its  service,  has  become  the  great 
Chicago,  Burlington  and  Quincy.  In  the  same  way 
the  little  road  that  crept  along  the  shores  of  Lake 
Michigan  for  forty-five  miles  when  I  began  to  run  its 
first  accommodation  train,  now  boasts  of  being  a  main 
artery  in  the  vast  system  of  the  Chicago  and  North  • 
Western  railway.  From  small  beginnings  the  old 
Milwaukee  and  Prairie  du  Chien  has  become  the 
Chicago,  Milwaukee  and  St.  Paul,  a  superb  trunk  line 
of  over  six  thousand  miles.  Chicago,  from  being  the 
small  city  I  first  saw  it,  low  down  in  the  prairie  mud, 
and  with  a  few  frame  structures  for  depots,  has  be- 
come not  only  the  great  railroad  center  of  the  West, 
but  the  greatest  center  in  the  world,  with  fine  railroad 
bridges  and  viaducts,  magnificent  depots,  vast  dock- 
yards, construction  and  repair  shops  that  are  the  mar 
vel  of  the  age. 

The  most  wonderful  of  all  railroading  feats  in  my 
day  has  been  the  crossing  of  the  continent.  In  1850, 
not  a  mile  of  track  existed  beyond  the  Mississippi. 
Those  who  thought  of  a  road  from  ocean  to  ocean 
were  called  visionaries,  to  use  the  mildest  word,  and 
even  later,  when  one  enthusiast  after  another  took  up 
the  idea,  they  did  little  else  but  impress  upon  the 


WESTWARD.  97 

world  an  idea  of  their  own  foolishness.  The  first  time 
I  ever  heard  the  suggestion  made  was  in  1860,  by 
John  Evans,  who  was  '  an  almost  daily  passenger  on 
my  train.  Mr.  Evans  was  the  founder  of  Evanston, 
now  the  site  of  the  Northwestern  University,  and  a 
town  of  which  I  have  made  frequent  mention  in  these 
pages.  He  afterward  moved  to  Denver,  when  that 
city  was  in  its  infancy,  was  appointed  governor  of 
Colorado  Territory,  and  became  interested  in  the  rail- 
road development  of  the  far  West  with  such  success 
that,  by  the  sale  of  one  of  his  roads  to  Jay  Gould,  he 
became  possessed  of  enormous  wealth. 

"  Sit  down  here,  Charley,"  Mr.  Evans  said,  one  day 
in  1860,  when  he  was  on  my  train.  He  had  been 
figuring  on  some  paper,  and  when  I  sat  down  he  con- 
tinued : 

"  Charley,  I  think  that  one  of  these  days  there  will 
be  a  railroad  over  the  Kocky  Mountains." 

"It's  possible,  but  hardly  probable,"  I  answered. 
"  The  cost  would  be  enormous,  the  engineering  diffi- 
culties next  to  insurmountable,  and  after  you  have 
your  road  where  will  you  get  your  business?" 

"It  will  come  in  time,  and  that  before  many  years," 
was  Mr.  Evans'  reply,  and  he  proceeded  to  unfold  to 
me  his  ideas. 

To  those  who  have  never  been  across  the  continent, 
indeed,  to  those  who  did  not  follow  the  work  step  by 
7 


98  FORTY  YEARS  ON  THE  RAIL. 

step,  it  is  impossible  to  realize  the  gigantic  task  of 
constructing  this  great  road.  Nature  was  not  the  only 
obstacle  to  be  overcome.  Public  opinion  and  financial 
pressure  had  to  be  fought.  Eidicule  was  poured  down 
on  the  projectors,  laborers  mutinied  and  demanded 
their  pay  in  advance,  and,  so  visionary  was  the  scheme 
considered,  that  bankers  dared  not  subscribe  to  the 
stock  of  the  road  lest  they  injure  their  credit.  Even 
so  late  as  1860,  the  scheme  was  declared  as  impos- 
sible as  a  railroad  to  the  North  Pole.  At  length  the 
battle  was  fought;  the  Indians,  the  rocks  and  defiles 
bathed  its  progress  in  human  blood.  For  five  years 
the  tramp  of  feet  was  heard  over  prairie,  desert  and 
mountain,  then  the  last  spike  was  driven,  the  loco- 
motive passed  in  triumph  to  the  Golden  Gate,  and 
there  stopped  its  westward  way. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

IN    WAK    TIMES. 

For  seven  years  after  I  went  on  the  old  Chicago 
and  Milwaukee  road,  no  great  event  happened  to  stir 
the  public  mind.  From  time  to  time  the  slavery 
agitation  grew  in  force,  until  the  nomination  and 
election  of  honest  old  Abe  stirred  the  people  on  that 
subject  as  nothing  had  done  before,  and  my  train 
became  the  scene  of  many  an  angry  debate.  Party 
feeling  ran  high,  and  among  my  passengers  were 
some  of  the  best  men  I  ever  knew,  who  took  opposite 
views  of  the  presidential  candidates.  Bitter  words 
were  spoken,  and  men  who  had  been  friends  and 
jovial  companions  for  years  now  looked  at  one  another 
askance,  and  groups  who  had  smoked  and  played 
cards  together  on  the  cars  before  the  nomination  were 
now  divided  by  common  consent. 

The  inauguration  of  Mr.  Lincoln  passed  without 
unusual  excitement,  but  there  came  a  day  in  the  next 

month  when  men  paused  aghast  as  they  read  their 

» 
newspapers;     when    cheeks     grew    pale    and    hands 

trembled.      My  train  carried  gloomy  passengers  that 


100  FORTY  YEAES  ON  THE  RAIL. 

day,  and  well  it  might.  Fort  Sumter  had  been  fired 
upon  !  It  seemed  hard  to  believe,  for  we  Americans 
have  such  firm  faith  in  our  institutions,  that  we  can 
scarcely  credit  a  disappointment  when  it  comes.  Early 
in  the  morning  of  April  12,  1861,  the  land  batteries 
began  their  fire  on  Fort  Sumter,  and  on  my  afternoon 
train  discussion  and  excitement  ran  high.  For  thirty- 
four  hours  the  bombardment  was  kept  up,  and  then 
Major  Anderson  surrendered;  our  beloved  flag  trailed 
in  the  dust. 

What  we  said,  how  we  felt,  in  those  hours  of  anxiety, 
can  hardly  be  recalled  now  that  the  space  of  over  a 
quarter  of  a  century  separates  us  from  those  trying 
times.  But  we  all  know  that  party  discussions  stopped, 
and  to  a  man  loyalty  to  his  country  became  the  rule. 
The  stars  and  stripes  waved  from  spire  and  balcony, 
office  and  warehouse,  mast  and  dwelling.  As  we 
looked  upon  the  folds  of  the  dear  old  flag  fluttering  in 
the  breeze,  we  all  knew  it  was  the  symbol  of  the 
United  North's  determination  to  stand  by  the  general 
government  forever. 

Well  do  I  remember  Sunday,  the  14th  of  April, 
1861,  the  day  following  the  surrender  of  Major 
Anderson.  It  was  one  of  those  beautiful,  cloudless 
spring  days  that  so  rarely  visit  our  Lake  Michigan 
climate  at  that  season.  In  the  mild  April  air  floated 
the  "  flag  of  the  free,"  and  on  every  side  were  signs 


IN   WAR   TIMES.  ,  lj)J 


that  surely  betokened  ours  was  the  ''Rome  oJ  the 
brave."  From  early  morning  until  late  at  night  the 
usually  quiet  Sunday  streets  were  thronged  with 
eager,  indignant,  troubled  people,  all  swayed  by  a 
common  feeling,  and  talking  on  one  subject.  The 
telegraphic  despatches  of  the  evening  before  had 
wrought  every  one  up  to  a  state  of  intense  feeling, 
and  how  it  was  faring  with  cur  boys  down  at  old 
Sumter  was  the  all-absorbing  topic  of  conversation. 
Governor  Yates  was  in  the  city,  and  his  headquarters 
at  the  Tremont  House  were  besieged  by  crowds  of 
people  anxious  to  find  out  what  Illinois  would  do  in 
the  crisis.  Even  that  early,  the  governor  was  tendered 
the  services  of  several  Chicago  military  'companies. 
The  excitement  reached  the  pulpits  of  the  churches, 
and  pastors  did  not  hesitate  to  take  a  bold  stand  on 
the  question  of  the  hour. 

On  Monday  morning  my  train  was  filled  to  its 
utmost  capacity  with  people  from  all  along  the  line 
going  to  Chicago  to  get  the  latest  news.  Nor  did 
they  all  return  to  their  homes  that  night,  but  many 
stayed  in  the  city  to  attend  the  various  meetings  held 
to  discuss  the  situation.  That  very  day  Governor 
Yates  called  for  six  companies  of  militia  for  immediate 
services.  A  grand  rally  was  held  at  Metropolitan 
Hall,  but  this  not  being  large  enough  to  hold  the 
throngs,  another  hall  was  opened  and  a  double  meeting 


02  FP^Y  -YEARS    ON    THE    BAIL. 


convened.  Speeches  were  made  and  resolutions  passed 
amid  the  wildest  enthusiasm,  which  reached  its  height 
when  was  sung  the  new  song  by  George  F.  Root, 
"  The  First  Gun  is  Fired  !  May  God  Protect  the 
Eight." 

When  on  the  day  following  the  evacuation  of  Fort 
Sumter,  came  President  Lincoln's  proclamation  calling 
for  seventy-five  thousand  men  to  serve  for  three 
months,  the  answer  to  the  call  was  enthusiastic  from 
every  corner  of  each  free  State.  Recruiting  offices 
were  full  of  men,  ready  and  anxious  to  enroll  their 
names  among  the  defenders  of  the  stars  and  stripes, 
and  only  fearful  lest  the  required  number  would  be 
made  up  and  their  names  left  out. 

We  felt  so  strong  and  proud  in  those  early  days 
that  three  months  seemed  long  enough  with  our  great 
power  to  crush  the  strongest  nation  on  earth,  to  say 
nothing  of  what  we  considered  a  little  uprising  on  our 
southern  borders.  We  little  dreamed  of  the  dreary 
four  years  that  lay  before  us;  of  the  bloody  battle- 
fields and  broken  hearts.  No  prophet  came  to  foretell 
that  of  our  brave  "boys  in  blue"  three  hundred 
thousand  would  be  either  killed  in  battle,  or  die  of 
disease  in  the  field;  that  four  hundred  thousand  of 
those  who  went  away  so  full  of  hope  and  courage 
would  return  to  us  crippled,  or  disabled  for  life.  It 
was  well  for  us  that  the  enthusiasm  of  '61  was  not  to 


IN    WAR    TIMES.  103 

be  crushed  at  one  blow  by  such  knowledge  as  this. 
Our  troubles  then,  like  all  others  in  life,  came  one  at 
a  time,  and  somehow  all  bore  them. 

In  a  few  days  the  country  was  filled  with  volunteers. 
My  train  began  to  carry  the  "  blue  coats,"  and  there 
were  lively  talks  of  the  great  deeds  that  were  to  be 
done.  When  off  duty  we  were  always  watching  some 
drill,  or  were  at  some  favorite  meeting-place  discuss- 
ing the  situation.  Those  were  more  like  picnic  days 
than  anything  else,  until  our  first  recruits  had  actually 
started  and  we  felt  that  serious  work  had  begun. 

The  general  cry  was  "On  to  Richmond,"  and, 
when  in  July  from  Bull  Run  our  troops  fled  panic 
stricken  to  Washington,  disappointment  settled  down 
on  us  like  a  pall.  -Then  for  the  first  time  we  realized 
that  a  terrible  war  was  upon  us,  and  not  a  mere 
holiday  parade  as  most  people  had  at  first  imagined. 
North  and  South  now  set  to  work  in  earnest,  and 
President  Lincoln  called  for  half  a  million  of  troops. 

It  is  not  my  purpose  to  follow  our  war  step  by 
step,  for  that  has  been  done  by  many  worthier  pens. 
I  shall  only  try  to  follow  some  of  our  railroad  boys 
through  the  struggle,  and  to  give  a  little  idea  of  what 
an  important  part  the  locomotive  took  in  the  great 
civil  strife,  aiding  its  progress  and  mitigating  its 
sufferings. 

Bravery  seems  to  belong  to  railroad  men.     Indeed, 


104          FORTY  YEARS  ON  THE  RAIL. 

the  service  lias  something  about  it  which  attracts 
those  who  are  daring.  No  sooner  was  the  sound  of 
the  drum  heard  in  the  land  than  hundreds  of  these 
men  sprang  into  the  soldiers'  ranks.  I  well  remember 
that  one  of  the  most  fearless  engineers  on  our  old  road 
in  those  days  was  George  Bentley.  He  was  always 
selected  to  fight  snow  or  make  a  fast  run,  and  was 
what  we  termed  a  "  game  engineer."  George  L. 
Dunlap  was  one  of  Bentley' s  greatest  admirers.  At 
the  breaking  out  of  the  war,  Bentley  promptly  raised 
a  company  of  railroad  men  and  marched  to  the  front. 
His  bold,  fearless  spirit  put  him  in  the  front  of  every 
battle,  and  while  the  war  was  yet  young,  the  news 
came  that  our  brave  old  friend  had  given  up  his  life 
for  his  country.  He  was  but  one  of  many  who  gave 
their  lives  that  the  country  might  be  redeemed,  but 
his  death  cast  a  deep  shadow  over  all  railroad  men. 
The  trusty  sword  that  he  had  so  gallantly  wielded  was 
sent  to  his  old  friend,  Mr.  Dunlap,  who  still  has  it 
among  his  most  prized  souvenirs  of  early  days. 

Illinois  sent  her  full  quota  of  railroad  men  to  the 
war.  At  first  they  enlisted  in  any  regiment  that  was 
being  formed,  but  about  sixteen  months  after  the  war 
began,  a  more  organized  effort  was  made  among  them 
and  the  so-called  "  Eailroad  Regiment,"  or  89th 
Illinois  Volunteer  Infantry,  was  recruited  in  the  State, 
being  organized  in  Chicago  under  the  direction  and 


106          FORTY  YEARS  ON  THE  RAIL. 

superintendence  of  the  various  railroad  companies  of 
Illinois,  in  August,  1862,  and,  being  composed  chiefly 
of  employees  of  these  lines.  Company  C  was  made 
up  of  boys  from  the  old  Chicago  and  Milwaukee  road, 
and  Henry  L.  Kowell  was  captain  of  the  company. 

The  organization  of  the  89th  was  under  the  super- 
vision of  Kobert  Forsyth,  of  the  Illinois  Central,  and 
W.  D.  Manchester,  of  the  Lake  Shore  and  Michigan 
Southern  road.  Besides  these  the  following  were 
active  in  behalf  of  the  organization:  Colonel  C.  G. 
Hammond,  of  the  Chicago,  Burlington  and  Quincy; 
Joseph  H.  Morse,  Pittsburg  and  Fort  Wayne;  A. 
Bigelow,  Michigan  Central;  Charles  S.  Tappan, 
Chicago  and  North-Western ;  W.  L.  St.  John,  Chicago 
and  Kock  Island;  S.  C.  Baldwin,  Chicago  and  Mil- 
waukee; C.  C.  Wheeler,  Chicago,  Alton  and  St.  Louis; 
E.  Anthony,  Galena  and  Chicago  Union. 

The  following  were  the  field  and  staff  officers  of 
the  89th  mustered  into  United  States'  service  on  Sep- 
tember 4,  1862:  Colonel,  John  Christopher,  U.  S.  A. ; 
Lieutenant-Colonel,  Charles  T.  Hotchkiss;  Major, 
Duncan  J.  Hall;  Surgeon,  S.  F.  Vance;  Assistant- 
Surgeon,  H.  B.  Tuttle;.  Adjutant,  Edward  F.  Bishop; 
Quartermaster,  Fred.  L.  Fake,  and  Chaplain,  Rev.  J. 
H.  Dill. 

The  89th  was  commanded  by  Lieutenant-Colonel 
Hotchkiss,  Colonel  Christopher  never  having  joined 


IN    WAR    TIMES.  107 

the  regiment,  of  which  he  resigned  the  command  soon 
afterward,  when  the  former  officer  became  colonel. 
C.  T.  Hotchkiss  in  1853  had  entered  the  service  of  the 
old  Galena  and  Chicago  Union,  when  its  western 
terminus  was  at  Kockford,  Illinois,  and  afterward  was 
freight  agent  for  the  road  in  Chicago. 

The  89th  having  received  orders  to  report  to  Louis- 
ville, Kentucky,  as  many  of  us  as  could  get  off  duty 
went  to  see  them  start.  They  left  Camp  E.  H.  Wil- 
liams on  September  4th,  and  arrived  at  Louisville 
three  days  after.  General  Bragg  had  then  invaded 
Kentucky,  his  army  being  at  Bardstown,  while  'the 
forces  of  Kirby  Smith  were  at  Lexington.  The  seces- 
sion element  at  the  time  was  jubilant,  for  things 
seemed  to  be  all  in  their  favor,  and  the  Union  people 
were  trembling.  Three  days  after  the  arrival  of  the 
89th,  Kirby  Smith's  forces  got  within  seven  miles  of 
Cincinnati,  threatening  the  invasion  of  Ohio  and 
Indiana.  The  regiment,  as  a  part  of  General  Buell's 
army,  marched  from  Louisville  and  encamped  on  the 
banks  of  the  Kentucky  river,  opposite  Frankfort,  on 
the  evening  of  October  6th,  arrived  at  Lawrenceburg 
in  two  days,  and  drove  a  force  of  rebel  cavalry  from 
the  place,  following  them  to  "  Dog  Walk,"  where,  the 
next  morning,  it  was  attacked  by  a  portion  of  Kirby 
Smith's  force. 

On  the  llth  of  October  the  Second  Division  joined 


108  FORTY   YEARS    ON   THE   BAIL. 

in  the  pursuit  of  Bragg  to  Crab  Orchard,  then  return- 
ing to  Bowling  Green.  A  few  days  later  the  Second 
Division  moved  toward. Nashville,  where  the  89th  was 
detached  from  the  command,  and  for  two  weeks  was 
stationed  at  Tyre  Springs,  on  the  railroad  route,  then 
rejoining  its  brigade  near  Nashville,  where  the  Union 
forces,  now  under  General  Kosecrans,  occupied  a  forti- 
fied position. 

On  the  morning  of  December  26th,  Rosecrans' 
movement  against  Bragg' s  forces  at  Murfreesboro' 
was  begun.  The  89th,  as  a  part  of  Johnson's  division, 
marched  from  Nashville,  reaching  Triune  the  next 
day.  In  the  morning  of  the  29th  our  troops  advanced 
toward  Murfreesboro',  and  on  the  30th  the  line  of 
battle  was  formed.  The  dawn  of  the  morning  of  the 
31st  saw  the  terrible  attack  of  the  enemy  on  the  right 
flank,  the  brave  defense  of  Kirk,  his  sad  repulse,  the 
capture  of  the  Union  batteries  and  the  general  dis- 
aster that  befell  McCook's  corps.  For  two  days  longer 
the  battle  went  on,  and  the  struggle  at  Murfreesboro' 
or  "  Stone  River,"  as  it  is  sometimes  called,  cost  our 
side  fourteen  thousand  men. 

Without  following  the  details  of  the  battle,  I  shall 
simply  say  that  the  89th  fought  nobly,  and  was  pro- 
nounced by  the  brigade  commander  "  by  all  odds  the 
best  for  its  age  in  the  service."  Their  total  loss  in 
killed,  wounded  and  missing,  was  one  hundred  and 


IN    WAR    TIMES.  109 

forty-nine.  Major  Hall  was  captured  and  taken  to 
Fortress  Monroe,  where  he  remained  until  spring, 
when  he  was  returned  to  his  regiment.  The  enlisted 
men  of  the  regiment  presented  Colonel  Hotchkiss, 
who  had  commanded  them  in  the  fight,  with  an 
elegant  sword  as  a  token  of  their  appreciation  and 
esteem. 

The  Army  of  the  Cumberland  lay  at  Murfreesboro' 
until  June  of  the  next  year.  General  Rosecrans 
advanced  towards  Tullahoma  on  June  24th,  and  then 
came  the  struggle  at  Liberty  Gap.  The  following 
account  has  been  given  of  the  close  of  the  battle 
and  the  part  taken  in  it  by  the  ''Railroad  Regiment": 

"  The  whole  rebel  left,  heavily  reinforced,  with 
supporting  companies  and  a  line  of  reserves,  and  sup- 
ported also  by  a  battery  on  the  hill,  charged  across 
the  valley  and  up  the  hill,  to  within  about  twenty 
yards  of  the  position  of  the  two  Union  regiments, 
which  quietly  prepared  to  receive  the  shock.  The 
weight  of  the  rebel  onset  was  directed  against  the 
center  of  the  line,  comprising  the  left  of  the  89th  Illi- 
nois and  the  right  of  the  32d  Indiana. 

"  The  regiments  bravely  held  their  position.  The 
supporting  companies  rallied  to  their  assistance,  and 
for  about  twenty  minutes  a  fierce  and  cruel  contest 
was  waged,  the  rebels  being  determined  to  force  the 
Union  line  and  occupy  its  position  on  the  hill.  That 


110          FORTY  YEARS  ON  THE  RAIL. 

position  was  the  key  to  the  southern  entrance  of  the 
gap,  and,  once  in  the  enemy's  possession,  the  Federal 
force  could  be  driven  back  through  the  defile.  To  this 
end  repeated  attacks  were  made  on  the  position,  but 
each  time  the  rebels  were  driven  back  with  a  heavy 
loss.  To  support  the  Union  regiments,  Goodspeed's 
and  an  Ohio  battery  were  hurried  forward.  The 
enemy  also  received  reinforcements  and  added  bat- 
teries, and  their  attacks  grew  more  and  more  furious 
and  stubborn.  At  this  juncture,  Captain  Bruce  H. 
Kidder,  of  Company  E,  89th  Illinois,  discovered  two 
rebel  infantry  companies  moving  toward  the  right  of 
his  regiment,  with  the  apparent  intention  of  attacking 
it  on  that  flank.  He  immediately  moved  his  com- 
mand, under  cover  of  the  crest  of  the  hill,  still  farther 
to  the  right,  and  to  a  position  of  about  two  hundred 
yards  in  advance  of  the  main  line  of  battle.  There, 
sheltered  by  a  fence,  he  waited  the  approach  of  the 
rebels  until  they  were  within  forty  yards  of  his 
ambush,  when  he  gave  the  order  to  fire.  The  ad- 
vancing companies  recoiled  before  the  well-aimed  and 
fatal  volleys,  and  fled  wildly  to  the  shelter  of  the 
wooded  hills  behind  them,  leaving  eight  dead  and 
thirty  wounded  of  their  attacking  party. 

"  As  the  ammunition  of  the  two  brave  regiments, 
so  long  and  hotly  engaged,  began  to  fail,  the  15th 
Ohio  was  ordered  to  their  support.  With  the  aid  of 


IN    WAR   TIMES.  Ill 

this  regiment,  one  more  determined  effort  of  the 
enemy  to  plant  his  flag  on  the  hill  was  repulsed  with 
the  most  heroic  bravery." 

During  the  last  struggle,  George  Sinclair,  who  was 
one  of  the  engineers  on  our  road,  was  shot  through 
the  left  lung,  the  ball  passing  through  his  body  and 
out.  He  lived  for  twenty-two  years  afterward  in  his 
usual  good  health. 

A  charge  on  the  rebel  position  was  finally  made  by 
the  reserve  regiment  of  the  brigade,  and  Miller's  bri- 
gade was  ordered  to  the  front  to  relieve  the  regiments 
which  had,  since  morning,  borne  the  brunt  of  the 
fight.  As  the  89th  Illinois  was  withdrawing,  the 
enemy,  thinking  it  a  retreat,  once  more  tried  to  seize 
the  position,  but  the  railroad  boys  faced  about,  dashed 
down  the  hill,  and,  with  their  last  remaining  cart- 
ridges, charged  the  advancing  "gray  coats"  and  drove 
them  back  across  the  field,  the  enemy  being  finally 
driven  from  the  hill  which  they  had  fortified,  and  re- 
treating toward  Bellbuckle. 

Henry  M.  Cist,  in  his  history  of  the  Army  of  the 
Cumberland,  says  the  fighting  at  Liberty  Gap  was  the 
"most  severe  of  the  Tullahoma  campaign,"  and  among 
the  brave  regiments  that  took  part  in  that  struggle, 
none  had  a  fairer,  or  more  heroic  record  than  the 
89th  Illinois. 

The   next   great   struggle  in  which  the   89th  was 


112  FORTY  YEARS  ON  THE  RAIL. 

engaged  was  at  Chickamauga  Creek,  where  the  battle 
raged  fiercely  for  two  days,  September  19  and  20. 
The  Union  army,  under  General  G.  H.  Thomas,  fought 
stubbornly  and  bravely,  but,  beaten  at  last,  they  with- 
drew to  Chattanooga.  The  railroad  boys  were  among 
the  bravest  of  the  brave,  and  were  among  the  last  of 
the  organized  troops  to  leave  the  field.  On  the  second 
day  of  the  battle,  while  supporting  Goodspeed's  bat- 
tery, our  boys  were  attacked  by  a  force  under  L.  E. 
Polk.  The  regiment  fought  valiantly  in  support  of 
the  battery,  but,  before  it  was  safe,  Lieutenant- Colonel 
Duncan  J.  Hall,  of  Chicago,  a  young  and  brave  officer, 
had  given  his  life  in  its  defense,  with  his  last  breath 
urging  his  regiment  to  stand  true  to  their  country  and 
their  flag. 

The  89th  Illinois,  in  November,  took  part  in  the 
attack  on  Mission  Eidge,  when  the  regiment  formed  a 
part  of  Willich's  brigade,  which  occupied  the  center 
of  the  division.  The  story  of  the  part  our  boys  took 
in  this  battle  is  thus  told: 

"  In  front  of  the  lines  was,  first,  a  broken  country, 
covered  with  dense  woods;  then  an  abrupt  rise  of 
ground,  terminated  by  a  narrow  plateau,  on  which  the 
enemy  had  located  his  camp.  Beyond  this  rose 
Mission  Eidge,  its  summit  bristling  with  batteries, 
and  strengthened  with  breastworks.  Lines  of  rifle- 
pits  were  to  be  carried  before  its  summit  could  be 


IN    WAR    TIMES.  113 

gained.  At  the  signal  the  troops  swept  forward, 
advancing  steadily  through  the  woods,  and  across  the 
open  field  in  front  of  the  enemy's  intrenchments  at 
the  foot  of  the  ridge,  each  command  striving  to  first 
reach  the  enemy.  The  first  line  was  captured  at  the 
point  of  the  bayonet,  and  the  routed  rebels  thrown 
back  on  their  reserves,  killed  or  taken  prisoners. 
Hardly  stopping  to  re-form,  or  for  an  order,  the  Union 
troops  grimly  charged  up  the  steep  and  rugged  ascent, 
and,  without  wavering  or  halting,  at  last,  with  loud 
hurrahs,  gained  the  crest  and  routed  the  enemy  from 
his  last  position.  Willich's  brigade  charged  up  the 
hill  at  a  point  where  the  ridge  was  formed  like  a  horse- 
shoe, the  Federal  troops  occupying  the  interior.  Bat- 
teries to  the  right  and  left,  and  in  front,  poured  upon 
them  a  terrific  fire,  but  it  reached  the  top  with  the 
foremost,  and  planted  its  colors  on  the  crest.  The 
enemy  held  their  ground  at  this  point,  until  the 
brigade  was  less  than  a  dozen  yards  from  their  breast- 
works, when  they  broke  in  wild  confusion  and  fled  in 
panic  down  the  opposite  slope  of  the  ridge.  A  portion 
of  the  brigade  pursued  them  for  nearly  a  mile,  cap- 
turing and  hauling  back  several  pieces  of  artillery 
which  they  were  trying  to  carry  off." 

Among  those  of  the  89th  Illinois  killed  at  Mission 
Ridge  was  Captain  Henry  L.  Eowell,  of   Company  C, 
a  brave  and  gallant  officer,  who  had  been  an  engineer 
8 


114          FORTY  YEARS  ON  THE  RAIL. 

on  the  old  Chicago  and  Milwaukee  road,  leaving  its 
service  to  enter  the  army. 

In  the  Atlanta  campaign  the  "  Kailroad  Kegiment " 
formed  part  of  the  First  Brigade  (commanded  by 
Willich),  Third  Division  (General  Wood),  Fourth 
Army  Corps  (General  Howard).  They  took  part  in 
the  struggles  at  Eocky  Face  Eidge,  Eesaca,  New 
Hope  Church,  Pine  Top  Knob,  and  Kenesaw  Moun- 
tain. They  then  went  into  camp  about  four  miles 
from  Atlanta,  remaining  about  four  weeks. 

Leaving  Atlanta  on  October  2nd  with  the  Fourth 
Corps,  commanded  by  General  Stanley,  the  89th  went 
in  pursuit  of  Hood,  who  was  marching  toward  the 
Tennessee  Eiver.  They  participated  in  the  engage- 
ments at  Columbia  and  Franklin  on  the  way  to 
Nashville,  which  was  reached  on  December  1st.  In 
the  engagements  before  Nashville  the  89th  lost 
thirty-nine  in  killed  and  wounded. 

The  railroad  boys  took  part  in  the  pursuit  of  Hood, 
and  then  went  to  Huntsville,  Alabama,  where  they 
remained  in  camp  until  February,  1865,  when,  with 
Colonel  Hotchkiss  still  in  command,  they  went  back 
to  East  Tennessee,  remaining  in  that  section  until 
Lee's  surrender.  The  89th  then  went  to  Nashville 
where  it  was  mustered  out  of  United  States'  service 
on  June  10,  1865,  and  left  the  same  day  for  Chicago. 
The  day  after  their  arrival,  the  boys  received  a  public 


IN   WAR    TIMES.  115 

reception,  with  the  88th  Illinois,  by  the  Board  of 
Trade  and  the  railroad  companies  of  the  city,  when 
Colonel  Hotchkiss,  in  responding  to  a  speech  of  con- 
gratulation, said: 

"  The  89th  left  Chicago  at  the  same  time  as  the 
88th,  or  three  years  ago,  nine  hundred  strong.  It  has 
baen  recruited  up  to  one  thousand  four  hundred;  that 
is,  that  number  have  been  enrolled  under  its  banner. 
It  has  lost  by  casualties  very  largely,  and  we  return 
now  with  three  hundred  .men,  two  hundred  others 
being  in  the  field  (transferred  to  the  59th  Illinois). 
The  balance  have  been  lost.  Among  the  lost  are  one 
lieutenant-colonel,  seven  captains,  four  lieutenants  and 
over  seven  hundred  men.  Our  history  is  written  on 
the  head-boards  of  rudely-made  graves  from  Stone 
Kiver  to  Atlanta.  Such  a  record  we  feel  proud  of." 

While  the  railroads  were  thus  represented  in  the 
field  by  some  of  their  bravest  and  noblest  men,  in  the 
North  the  locomotive  and  its  masters  were  keeping 
the  wheels  of  commerce  moving,  and  were  the  power 
behind  the  throne  that  sustained  the  great  powers 
that  fought  for  union  and  liberty.  Up  and  down  sped 
the  "iron  horse,"  carrying  supplies  of  ammunition, 
food,  clothing,  saddlery,  horses,  wagons,  and  all  the 
other  necessaries  of  the  march  and  the  camp.  The 
mothers,  sisters,  wives  and  children  of  the  boys  who 
had  gone  to  the  front  were  in  the  same  need  of  food 


116          FORTY  YEAES  ON  THE  BAIL. 

and  clothes  as  before  the  war,  and  for  them  as  for  the 
soldiers  mills  and  looms  were  busy,  and  the  railroads 
transported  the  corn  and  pork  of  the  West  to  the 
Atlantic  seaboard,  bringing  back  the  products  of  the 
busy  mills  of  the  East.  Back  and  forth  went  the 
locomotive,  feeding,  clothing,  aiding  the  man  who 
plowed  at  home  to  feed  his  brother  who  carried  a 
bayonet  at  the  front.  Without  her  manufactures,  her 
agriculture,  and  her  commerce,  the  North  could  not 
have  won  her  victories,  and  without  her  locomotive 
who  shall  say  what  her  looms  and  her  farmers  would 
have  done? 

The  locomotive  made  a  United  North,  bringing  sec- 
tions together  in  feeling  that  had  never  before  felt  the 
need  of  one  another.  When  the  call  rang  from  the 
White  House  for  more  men  to  send  to  the  front,  the 
locomotive  was  set  in  motion  with  redoubled  energy 
and  carried  forward  flashing  bayonets  in  the  hands  of 
those  who  shouted  as  they  dashed  along  the  rail  to 
the  scene  of  conflict, 

"We  are  coming,  Father  Abraham,  with  six  hundred  thousand  more." 

The  railroad  carried  to  and  fro  letters — bushels 
upon  bushels,  tons  upon  tons  of  letters,  bearing  with 
them  words  of  comfort  and  cheer.  It  bore  to  the 
needy  soldier's  side  representatives  of  the  Young 
Men's  Christian  Association;  it  also  sent  special  mes- 


IN   WAR    TIMES.  117 

sengers  of  all  religious  sects  with  supplies  of  good 
things  not  included  in  the  regular  army  rations.  It 
carried  the  Sanitary  Commission  on  errands  of  mercy, 
and  the  scores  of  nurses  who  ministered  to  the  sick 
and  dying. 

The  long  and  exhausting  marches,  which  in  olden 
times  had  killed  more  men  than  fell  in  battle,  were 
done  away  with  by  the  locomotive.  Then,  too,  the 
wounded  were  not  left  as  of  old  to  die  on  the  field,  for 
the  railroad  enabled  them  to  be  taken  to  hospitals  or 
other  resting  places,  where  the  best  of  care  was  given 
them.  It  is  said  that  the  Sanitary  Commission  carried 
two  hundred  and  twenty-five  thousand  men  from  the 
field  of  battle  in  hospital  cars.  They  fitted  up  "  rail- 
way ambulances "  with  elastic  beds  and  provided 
them  with  as  many  conveniences  and  comforts  as  it 
was  possible  to  get  for  them. 

It  is  impossible  to  tell  how  much  the  railroad 
shortened  the  length  of  our  great  civil  strife,  by  afford- 
ing means  for  gathering  and  concentrating  soldiers  on 
short  notice,  and  by  furnishing  food  for  them  at  every 
change  of  base  as  rapidly  as  commanding  generals 
desired  to  move  their  troops.  The  slow  methods  that 
must  have  been  resorted  to  had  the  locomotive  not 
existed,  can  be  judged  from  the  estimate  that,  con- 
veyed by  the  common  roads,  five  hundred  horses  and 
about  thirty  days  would  be  necessary  to  transport  one 


118          FORTY  YEARS  ON  THE  RAIL. 

day's  supplies  for  an  army  of  eighty-five  thousand 
men,  four  hundred  miles,  while  all  this  can  be  done 
by  a  single  train  of  cars  in  forty  hours. 

Even  a  short  account  of  the  part  played  by  the 
railroad  in  the  various  campaigns  of  the  late  civil 
strife  would  be  beyond  the  scope  of  this  volume. 
Incidents  of  great  interest  might  be  given  in  connec- 
tion with  each  one,  but  perhaps  Sherman's  famous 
march  from  Chattanooga  to  the  sea  furnishes  more 
than  any  other  single  campaign,  and  I  shall  be  for- 
given if  I  dwell  at  length  on  that  part  of  the  war. 

During  his  celebrated  march,  a  single  pair  of  rails 
linked  General  Sherman  to  his  base  of  supplies. 
Although  he  had  an  army  one  hundred  thousand 
strong,  it  is  said  that  not  a  man  of  that  vast  force  for 
even  twenty-four  hours  went  without  ammunition,  nor 
were  the  troops  without  food  a  day  at  any  time.  A 
construction  corps  of  about  two  thousand  men  had 
charge  of  the  railroad  repairs,  and  a  large  railroad 
transportation  department  was  organized  to  meet  the 
demands  of  the  hour.  The  advancing  column  that 
set  out  from  Chattanooga  needed  an  enormous  quan- 
tity of  clothes,  food  and  ammunition,  and  a  single 
line  of  track  from  Louisville  was  all  that  could  be 
depended  on  for  furnishing  these  supplies.  Sherman 
then  ordered  all  railroad  cars  reaching  Louisville  to 
be  loaded  with  supplies  and  sent  to  the  front.  Adju- 


IN  WAR   TIMES.  119 

tant  Hedley,  who  was  in  this  great  campaign  to  the 
sea,  thus  gives  an  account  of  this  railway  service  in 
the  pages  of  his  "  Marching  through  Georgia." 

"  Henceforth,  trains  on  the  '  United  States  Military 
Railroad'  were  motley  enough,  and  it  may  be  said, 
without  exaggeration,  that  in  many  of  them  there  were 
not  more  than  three  cars  belonging  to  any  one  road, 
and  nearly  all  came  from  north  of  the  Ohio  river. 

"A  few  passenger  cars  were  run  as  far  south  as 
Nashville,  but  none  beyond  that  point;  an  officer  or 
soldier  seeking  his  command  at  the  front  was  obliged, 
on  leaving  Nashville,  to  find  a  place  on  the  top  of  a 
freight  car,  as  a  member  of  the  armed  guard  which 
accompanied  each  train.  He  was  frequently  fired  at 
by  guerillas,  from  behind  trees  and  hills,  and  often  his 
train  was  thrown  from  the  track  by  some  obstruction 
or  a  displaced  rail,  and  he  was  attacked  at  a  great  dis- 
advantage by  a  considerable  force  of  the  enemy.  But 
this  route,  rough  as  it  was,  was  one  of  pure  delight 
compared  with  the  dirt-road  assigned  to  most  of  those 
returning  from  home  or  hospital.  The  latter  were 
organized  into  temporary  companies  or  detachments, 
and  obliged  to  drive  and  guard  beef  herds,  or  wagon 
trains,  until  they  reached  their  destination. 

"Notwithstanding  the  difficulty  of  securing  rail- 
road transportation,  and  the  urgent  necessity  requiring 
it  entirely  for  military  purposes,  sanitary  and  Chris- 


120          FORTY  YEARS  ON  THE  RAIL. 

tian  commissions  and  volunteer  philanthropists  from 
every  State  having  a  soldier  in  the  field,  sought  the 
freedom  of  the  road,  only  to  be  denied  by  the  lynx- 
eyed  Sherman.  One  of  these  well-meaning  function- 
aries complained  to  his  governor  that  the  great  general 
had  treated  his  with  discourtesy.  The  governor 
appealed  to  Staiiton,  S3cretary  of  War,  who  lectured 
Sherman,  whereupon  the  indignant  general  retorted  in 
this  characteristic  way:  'Even  a  single  passenger  is  a 
small  matter,  but  he  is  two  hundred  pounds  avoirdu- 
pois, and  his  weight  in  bread  and  meat  would  feed 
one  hundred  men  for  a  day.  For  mercy's  sake  allow 
us  for  the  period  of  our  brief  campaign  to  have  the 
exclusive  use  of  our  single  track  of  rail,  every  foot  of 
which  we  must  guard,  and  every  inch  of  which  has 
cost  us  a  precious  life.' 

"And  this  slender  artery  of  life,  upon  which  de- 
pended the  very  existence  of  a  hundred  thousand  men, 
and  perhaps  that  of  the  nation  itself,  was  soon  to  be 
indefinitely  extended,  to  keep  pace  with  the  army 
pressing  southward,  every  additional  mile  costing 
more  lives,  adding  to  the  risk  of  breakage  by  the 
enemy,  and  diminishing  the  moving  column  to  the 
extent  of  the  detachments  left  behind  for  its  protec- 
tion. Important  bridges  and  strategic  points  were 
guarded  by  veteran  troops,  posted  in  earthworks  with 
artillery;  but  for  the  greater  part  the  defenses  were 


IN   WAR   TIMES.  121 

block-houses  and  stockades,  garrisoned  by  '  short 
term '  men  enlisted  for  the  purpose.  It  was  a  service 
of  vast  importance,  but  monotonous  and  inglorious, 
and  the  rudely  painted  sign  displayed  at  each  of  these 
minor  posts,  addressed  to  passing  trains,  '  Please 
throw  us  a  paper ! '  told  a  pathetic  story  of  loneliness 
and  anxiety.  In  many  cases  these  little  garrisons 
were  fiercely  attacked  and  made  gallant  and  successful 
resistance.  The  heroic  defense  of  Allatoona,  referred 
to  hereafter  at  length,  is  almost  as  famous  as  the 
4  Charge  of  the  Light  Brigade '  —  it  was  certainly  far 
more  momentous  in  its  results. 

"  The  Railway  Construction  and  Eepair  Corps, 
made  up  of  civilians,  was  an  all-important  ally.  Large 
detachments  were  stationed  at  suitable  points  and  dis- 
patched to  each  break  in  the  road  as  soon  as  one 
occurred.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  this  corps  was  perpetu- 
ally in  motion.  So  thoroughly  was  it  equipped,  and 
so  zealously  did  it  push  the  work,  that  the  enemy 
frequently  heard  the  engine  whistle  at  the  front  within 
a  few  hours  after  they  had  inflicted  damage  which 
they  believed  could  not  be  repaired  in  a  week.  Dupli- 
cates of  bridges  and  important  trestles  were  kept  in 
reserve  to  replace  those  destroyed,  each  timber  being 
numbered  and  fitted  ready  to  put  in  place.  Some  of 
the  work  was  almost  marvelous.  But  the  grandest 
achievement  of  the  corps  was  the  replacement  of  the 


122          FORTY  YEARS  ON  THE  RAIL. 

bridges  over  the  Chattahoochee,  Etowah  and  Oostan- 
aula,  which  had  been  destroyed  by  the  retreating 
enemy.  These  structures,  being  within  the  enemy's 
lines,  could  not  be  duplicated  from  the  storehouse, 
and  most  of  the  timber  had  to  be  cut  out  of  the  forest 
on  either  side  of  the  streams.  They  were  from  six  to 
twelve  hundred  feet  long,  and  from  eighty  to  one  hun- 
dred feet  high,  yet  they  were  repla'ced  in  two  to  five 
days.  The  moral  effect  was  marvelous.  The  Union 
troops  were  led  to  believe  that  their  communication 
with  home  could  never  be  interrupted,  save  for  a  few 
hours  at  a  time ;  while  the  enemy  was  fully  convinced 
that  Sherman  and  his  men  were  all  but  omnipotent, 
and  that  destructive  measures  were  of  little  avail  to 
arrest  their  progress.  Indeed,  there  was  a  story  in 
those  days  to  the  effect  that  Johnston  had  determined 
to  blow  up  an  important  railroad  tunnel  in  order  to 
stop  the  invaders,  whereupon  one  of  his  men  remarked, 
'  There  isn't  no  use  in  that,  'cause  Sherman  carries 
'long  duplicates  of  all  the  tunnels  ! ' 

Adjutant  Hedley  has  recorded  several  incidents  in 
regard  to  the  railroad  service  in  Sherman's  campaign 
which  will  be  of  interest  to  the  readers  of  these  pages. 
He  tells  of  a  remarkable  adventure  which  took  place 
at  Big  Shanty,  a  railroad  station  almost  at  the  foot  of 
Kenesaw  Mountain.  In  order  to  break  the  Atlanta 
railway  at  this  station  to  cut  off  the  rebels'  source  of 


IN   WAK    TIMES.  123 

supplies,  General  Mitchell  sent  twenty  men  to  the 
place.  It  was  then  a  rebel  camp  in  the  interior  of  the 
Confederacy,  but  the  men  were  brave  and  thought  not 
of  the  danger.  Forming  a  plan  before  they  started, 
they  set  out  in  disguise  and  by  different  roads,  finally 
getting  to  Big  Shanty  in  safety.  There  they  stole  a 
light  freight  train  while  its  rebel  crew  was  at  dinner, 
and  started  off  toward  Chattanooga,  intending  to  burn 
the  bridges  as  they  passed  over  them.  Being  closely 
pursued  by  another  train  they  could  not  stop  to  do 
any  work  of  destruction.  Soon  their  wood  and  water 
supply  gave  out,  and  the  engine  was  fast  becoming 
useless,  the  brass  journals  having  actually  melted. 
Driven  to  desperation,  at  last  the  brave  fellows  jumped 
from  the  engine  and  started  for  the  woods.  It  hap- 
pened that  a  regimental  muster  was  being  held  at  the 
place,  and  planters  were  there  with  bloodhounds  and 
horses,  so  the  fugitives  were  hunted  down  and  cap- 
tured. Several  were  hanged  by  their  pursuers,  but 
almost  by  a  miracle  the  rest  escaped.  Six  of  the  latter 
were  recaptured,  but  they  were  afterward  exchanged 
and  went  to  Washington.  There  honor  awaited  them. 
President  Lincoln  gave  them  a  reception,  conferred  a 
medal  on  each,  had  their  arrearages  of  money  given 
them,  and  presented  each  with  an  extra  one  hundred 
dollars  and  a  furlough  so  that  they  might  visit  their 
homes. 


124  FORTY   YEARS   ON   THE   RAIL. 

Engineers  were  generally  among  the  most  daring 
men  in  the  service.  They  delighted  in  doing  an 
audacious  act  when  opportunity  was  afforded  them. 
One  day  while  the  rebel  forces  held  the  heights  of 
Kenesaw,  a  daring  Union  engineer  ran  his  locomotive 
up  the  road  just  under  the  mountain,  and  drew  down 
upon  him  the  fire  from  the  enemy's  batteries.  Blowing 
his  whistle  in  defiance  of  the  attack,  he  backed  away 
in  safety,  the  federal  troops  giving  him  one  round  of 
cheers  after  another,  while  the  grand  old  Hills  of 
Georgia,  as  if  in  sympathy  with  their  cause,  gave 
back  the  echoes,  sound  upon  sound. 

If  the  saying  is  true  that  we  never  appreciate  the 
blessings  we  have  until  they  are  taken  from  us,  surely 
Sherman's  troops  had  a  good  opportunity  to  appreciate 
the  railroad  "when  their  general  resolved  to  cut  the 
last  link  that  bound  them  to  home,  and  to  start  off 
into  the  heart  of  the  enemy's  country  toward  the  sea. 
They  were  at  Big  Shanty  when  the  order  came.  For 
three  days  the  railroad  worked  to  its  utmost  limit 
bringing  in  supplies,  carrying  away  all  surplus 
artillery,  the  sick  and  the  wounded.  After  dark  on 
the  12th  of  November  the  last  train  bound  for  the 
North  rolled  past  Big  Shanty.  "  It  would  have  been 
a  windfall  for  the  enemy,"  says  Hedley.  "  It  carried 
many  officers  who  had  resigned,  and  soldiers  whose 
terms  of  service  had  expired.  Large  sums  of  money 


IN    WAR    TIMES. 


125 


-    OLD    COOK    STREET    DEPOT, 
CHICAGO. — Page  91. 

were  committed  to  them  by 
their  comrades  for  delivery  to  families 
or  friends  at  home.  One,  a  surgeon, 
had  not  less  than  twelve  thousand 
dollars  in  his  valise,  enclosed  in  ordinary  envelopes 
endorsed  with  the  amount  and  the  name  of  the  person 
for  whom  it  was  intended.  Fortunately,  no  accident 
befell  the  train,  but  it  was  more  than  two  months  before 


126          FORTY  YEARS  ON  THE  RAIL. 

this  was  known  to  the  men  who  trusted  so  much  to  un- 
certain fate.  The  passing  by  of  this  train  awoke  strange 
sensations.  Hearty  cheers  and  '  God  bless  you,'  came 
from  scores  of  the  homeward  bound,  as  hearty  cheers 
and  fervent  '  Good-byes '  from  those  left  behind. 
But  the  brave  words  of  both  belied  their  hearts.  The 
former  gave  an  encouragement  which  was  tinged  with 
a  feeling  of  dread;  the  latter  felt  an  anxiety  their 
shouts  did  not  reveal.  The  departing  train  was  the 
sundering  of  the  last  link  connecting  them  with 
country  and  home." 

The  personal  memoirs  of  General  Grant  furnish 
numerous  incidents  which  show  the  important  part 
played  by  the  railroad  in  the  civil  war.  Every  few 
pages  narrate  how  the  forces  on  both  sides  tried  to 
get  or  keep  control  of  different  lines.  Frequent 
mention  is  made  of  the  rapidity  with  which  our  troops 
repaired  damages  to  tracks  done  by  the  enemy,  and 
built  bridges  as  if  by  magic  where  similar  structures 
had  been  destroyed  by  the  retreating  foe. 

In  speaking  of  the  destruction  done  by  General 
Sherman's  troops  on  their  way  through  Georgia  to  the 
sea,  General  Grant  says: 

"  The  troops,  both  of  the  right  and  left  wings, 
made  most  of  their  advance  along  the  line  of  railroads 
which  they  destroyed.  The  method  adopted  to  per- 
form this  work,  was  to  burn  and  destroy  all  the 


IN   WAR    TIMES.  127 

bridges  and  culverts,  and  for  a  long  distance,  at 
places,  to  tear  up  the  track  and  bend  the  rails.  Sol- 
diers to  do  this  rapidly  would  form  a  line  along  one 
side  of  the  road  with  crowbars  and  poles,  place  these 
under  the  rails  and,  hoisting  all  at  once,  turn  over 
many  rods  of  road  at  one  time.  The  ties  would  then 
be  placed  in  piles,  and  the  rails,  as  they  were  loos- 
ened, would  be  carried  and  put  across  these  log  heaps. 
When  a  sufficient  number  of  rails  were  placed  upon  a 
pile  of  ties  it  would  be  set  on  fire.  This  would  heat 
the  rails  very  much  more  in  the  middle,  that  being 
over  the  main  part  of  the  fire,  than  at  the  ends,  so 
that  they  would  naturally  bend  of  their  own  weight ; 
but  the  soldiers,  to  increase  the  damage,  would  take 
tongs  and,  one  or  two  men  at  each  end  of  the  rail, 
carry  it  with  force  against  the  nearest  tree  and  twist 
it  around,  thus  leaving  rails  forming  bands  to  orna- 
ment the  forest  trees  of  Georgia.  All  this  work  was 
going  on  at  the  same  time,  there  being  a  sufficient 
number  of  men  detailed  for  that  purpose.  Some 
piled  the  logs  and  built  the  fire;  some  put  the  rails 
upon  the  fire,  while  others  would  bend  those  that 
were  sufficiently  heated,  so  that,  by  the  time  the  last 
bit  of  road  was  torn  up  that  it  was  designed  to  destroy 
at  a  certain  place,  the  rails  previously  taken  up  were 
already  destroyed." 

What  this  meant  to  the  South  can  be  appreciated 


128          FORTY  YEARS  ON  THE  RAIL. 

when  it  is  remembered  that  the  whole  mechanical 
system  of  the  country  was  an  importation,  and,  having 
no  workshops  of  their  own,  when  northern  markets 
were  closed  against  them,  railroads  and  everything 
else  that  required  machinery  fell  into  decay,  for 
scarcely  a  cog-wheel  could  be  manufactured  by  south- 
ern artisans. 

Enough  has  already  been  said  to  show  of  what 
vital  importance  were  the  railroad  and  railroad  men 
to  the  successful  conduct  of  the  late  war.  Up  and 
down,  backwards  and  forwards  went  the  "  iron  horse  " 
on  its  unwearied  way  through  the  great  struggle. 
Mile  by  mile  the  locomotive  kept  pace  with  our 
various  armies  on  their  march,  keeping  them  refreshed 
and  strengthened  with  provisions,  and  well  supplied 
with  ammunition,  changing  the  base  of  supplies  as 
often  as  occasion  demanded  it.  "Who  shall  say  how 
many  more  years  of  conflict  would  have  been  neces- 
sary, and  how  infinitely  greater  would  have  been  their 
misery  and  woe  had  not  Stephenson's  great  invention 
been  not  only  the  soldiers'  ally  in  battle,  but  the  great 
agent  in  carrying  on  the  vocations  of  industry  in  the 
North? 


CHAPTEE 

FIGHTING    THE    ELEMENTS. 

In  these  days  of  scientific  railroading,  trains  take 
no  note  of  wind  or  weather.  The  thunder  rolls,  the 
lightnings  flash,  hail,  rain  and  snow  dash  in  fury,  but 
passengers  tuck  themselves  into  their  sleeping  berths 
or  cushioned  seats,  and  the  engineer  starts  out  into 
the  blackness  of  midnight.  Quite  a  contrast  is  this 
with  the  engineer  of  1839,  who  took  out  a  party  from 
Lexington,  Kentucky,  and  when  it  began  to  snow,  ran 
his  locomotive  under  a  shed  for  shelter,  saying  he 
would  not  go  an  inch  further,  as  his  track  was  so 
"  slick  "  that  the  train  would  be  thrown  off  the  rails. 

In  the  infancy  of  railroading,  owing  to  the  extremes 
of  temperature  and  the  heavy  storms  of  our  climate, 
men  suffered  more  and  greater  trials  than  they  do 
to-day.  The  cabless  engines  gave  no  shelter  for 
engineer  or  fireman.  The  old  strap  rails  and  even  the 
iron  rails,  laid  as  they  were  on  the  road-beds  of 
masonry  or  the  badly  constructed  road-beds  of  a  later 
day,  were  constantly  being  broken  by  frosts  or  injured 
by  heavy  rains.  The  poorly  heated,  poorly  ventilated 
9  129 


130          FORTY  YEARS  ON  THE  RAIL. 

and  otherwise  inferior  passenger  coaches  made  travel 
a  great  hardship  in  cold  and  inclement  weather  for 
even  the  richest  travelers,  as  money  could  not  buy 
what  the  progress  of  science  nad  not  given  to  the 
world.  With  all  its  discomforts  and  hardships, 
however,  primitive  railroading  was  away  in  advance  of 
the  stage-coaching  that  preceded  it. 

But  with  all  the  protection  and  conveniences  of 
modern  times,  which  have  made  it  so  that  passengers 
know  very  little  of  the  hardships  of  fighting  the 
elements  in  our  climate,  the  train  hands  have  many  of 
the  trials  that  beset  the  same  class  of  men  in  early 
railroad  days.  Even  with  his  cab  for  shelter,  the 
engineer  suffers  from  the  torrid  heats  of  our  summer, 
especially  when  he  crosses  the  long,  treeless  tracts  of 
prairie  land,  or  the  arid  plains  of  our  American  desert. 
In  winter  even  the  best  protection  yet  conceived  of  is 
inadequate  to  shelter  him  from  the  icy  sleet,  the 
blinding  snows,  and  the  bitter  winds  of  our  western 
blizzards. 

English  engines  are  constructed  without  cabs.  The 
Englishman  pleads  the  mildness  of  his  climate  as  an 
excuse  for  not  providing  his  engineers  with  the  same 
shelter  that  we  give  them.  Leaving  out  of  the  ques- 
tion the  cruelty  of  shooting  a  man  sixty  miles  an  hour, 
wholly  unprotected,  through  a  midnight  storm,  in 
pitchy  darkness,  the  fact  still  remains  that  no  man 


FIGHTING   THE    ELEMENTS.  131 

can  use  all  of  his  powers  to  advantage  if  half  his  vital 
force  must  be  spent  in  keeping  warm  and  resisting 
the  fury  of  the  elements.  No  one  holds  a  place  which 
calls  for  more  keen  thought,  watchfulness  and  absorb- 
ing attention  than  the  engineer  of  a  locomotive,  and  it 
is  simply  a  question  of  profit  and  loss  whether  he 
shall  stand  up  to  his  work  in  the  open  air,  subjected 
to  all  the  extremes  of  temperature  and  other  climatic 
changes,  or  have  a  seat  in  a  sheltering  cab. 

No  one  who  has  not  ridden  on  an  engine  at  night 
can  possibly  understand  how  trying  the  task  is  When 
once  in  a  while  an  outsider  tries  the  experiment,  he 
soon  finds  it  too  great  a  strain  on  his  nerves,  and  is 
glad  to  get  back  to  the  palace  car  to  finish  his  jour- 
ney. Darkness  that  has  not  even  a  star  to  relieve  it  is 
awful  enough,  but  when  to  it  are  added  wind,  snow, 
hail,  or  pelting  rain,  the  trainman's  task  is  one  that 
no  non-railroader  can  comprehend. 

Just  stop  for  a  few  moments  to  take  in  thought  a 
ride  with  an  engineer  on  a  night  express  in  winter.  A 
railway  superintendent,  Joseph  Taylor,  in  a  book  on 
"The  Modern  Highway,"  thus  describes  his  experi- 
ences, and  let  us  go  with  him: 

"  Carefully  proceeding  through  the  yard  and  fast 
freight  trains  that  would  follow  us,  we  soon  left  the 
station  lights  behind  and  plowed  into  the  darkness 
and  storm.  John  Dobbs  was  one  of  the  oldest  and 


132          FORTY  YEARS  ON  THE  RAIL. 

best  men  on  the  road.  It  was  his  boast,  and  an  honest 
one,  that  during  the  sixteen  years  he  had  been  driving 
on  that  road  he  had  not  cost  the  company  a  dollar  for 
any  negligence  or  mistake  of  his.  His  record  was 
clear.  I  sat  and  watched  him  from  the  opposite  side 
of  the  cab.  He  was  rather  tall,  thin,  and  of  a  nervous 
temperament;  and  although  not  even  the  smoke-stack 
of  the  engine  could  be  seen  for  the  darkness  and  the 
drifting  snow,  his  piercing  eye  never  wavered  from  its 
insubstantial  mark.  One  hand  on  the  throttle,  the 
other  on  the  reversing  lever,  he  stood  erect  and  firm, 
intensely  propelling  his  vision  into  the  abysmal  dark- 
ness beyond. 

"The  'Greyhound'  began  to  feel  her  feet;  her 
speed  increased  with  every  stroke  of  the  piston  head. 
Her  machinery  quivered  with  its  force;  she  leaped 
and  reeled  on  each  defective  joint,  but  her  iron  mem- 
bers held  her  firm.  The  fireman  never  ceased  to  cast 
in  the  fuel,  and  the  fierce  flames  darted  ardently 
through  the  brassy  veins.  Suddenly  a  scream  from 
the  whistle,  a  quick  movement  on  the  throttle  —  the 
fireman  rushed  to  the  other  side  of  the  engine  —  a 
flash  of  light!  We  passed  a  station  and  a  freight 
train  on  the  side  track.  More  fuel  into  the  fire,  and 
the  '  Greyhound '  urged  ahead,  for  now  we  had  a 
straight  piece  of  track  before  us.  The  storm  abated 
and  the  sky  cleared.  We  passed  a  few  more  stations 


FIGHTING    THE    ELEMENTS.  133 

and  freight  trains,  and  at  a  tremendous  speed  bounded 
from  the  level  down  a  grade,  the  steepest  on  the  road. 
Steam  was  shut  off,  the  fireman  seized  the  wheel,  the 
whistle  screamed,  and  we  finally  came  to  a  stand  right 
under  the  hose  of  a  water-tank. 

"  '  Engine  driving1  is  trying  work  such  weather  as 

o  O  «/         O 

to-night,  sir,'  said  Johnny,  wiping  the  perspiration  off 
his  face  with  his  sleeve,  'when  you  can't  see  your 
signal-lights,  nor  even  your  smoke-stack,  and  you 
have  to  run  like  mad  on  a  bad  track  to  make  up  time 
so  as  not  to  lose  connection.  I  tell  you,  it  makes  a 
man  sweat  if  he's  as  cold  as  a  lump  of  ice.  You  have 
to  go  it  blind.  You  can't  see  if  the  switches  are  right. 
If  trains  you  are  to  pass  have  got  into  a  side  track, 
you  can't  make  out  anything  till  you  are  right  into  it. 
It's  trying  work  on  the  mind,  sir,  is  driving  an 
engine.' ' 

Out  West  travel  is  exposed  to  the  greatest  dangers. 
Forest  and  prairie  fires  are  even  now  to  be  dreaded. 
Instances  are  recorded  where  trains  at  full  speed  rush 
through  a  sea  of  flames,  the  cars  catching  fire  in 
several  places,  being  also  badly  cracked  and  charred. 
On  the  great  plains  tornadoes,  water-spouts  and  hail- 
storms cause  great  destruction.  Once  on  the  Kansas 
Pacific  railroad  in  a  thunder-storm  and  water-spout 
over  six  thousand  feet  of  track  were  washed  away,  and 
eight  feet  of  water  covered  the  prairie.  A  freight 


134          FOKTY  YEAES  ON  THE  BAIL. 

train  was  lost  at  the  time,  and,  though  great  efforts 
were  made  to  find  it,  not  a  trace  of  it  has  ever  been 
discovered.  Many  times  car  windows  and  shutters 
have  been  broken  by  huge  hail-stones.  Cyclones  are 
a  source  of  terror  to  all  who  have  ever  heard  of  the 
terrible  devastation  caused  by  them. 

Snow  has  always  been  one  of  the  greatest  obstacles 
with  which  railroads  must  contend.  No  stronger 
argument  was  urged  against  the  construction  of  a 
railway  across  the  continent  than  the  heavy  snows. 
"  When  you  get  blocked  up  hundreds  of  miles  from 
civilization,  where  will  you  get  provisions  to  last  till 
the  spring  thaws  let  you  out?"  the  objectors  argued. 
In  the  early  days  of  the  road  all  trains  were  sent  out 
in  winter  loaded  with  supplies  of  fuel  and  blankets, 
and  extra  quantities  of  coal,  wood  and  water,  and 
relief  trains  with  provisions  were  always  on  hand. 
Snowplows  and  snow- sheds  solved  the  problem,  and 
storms  are  no  longer  the  source  of  anxiety  and  suffer- 
ing they  were  even  a  decade  ago. 

The  evolution  of  the  snow-plow  is  a  subject  of 
great  interest.  The  first  ever  constructed  was  made 
for  the  old  "  Granite  railroad  "  at  Quincy,  Massachu- 
setts, which  was  thus  described  by  a  writer  of  that 
day:  "Even  the  late  snow,  which  was  deeper  than  has 
before  fallen  for  several  years,  has  presented  no 
obstruction.  On  first  passing,  while  the  snow  was 


FIGHTING    THE    ELEMENTS.  135 

light,  two  pieces  of  plank  were  placed  before  the  car, 
meeting  in  an  angle  at  the  center,  and  drawn  along 
the  rails,  and  by  this  means  the  snow  was  effectually 
removed  so  as  to  render  the  traveling  of  the  wheels  as 
free  as  in  summer."  On  this  railroad,  it  will  be  re- 
membered, only  horse-power  was  used. 

Another  effort  to  clear  tracks,  which  was  made 
before  my  early  days,  was  by  fastening  brooms  to  a 
car-truck,  which  was  pushed  along  by  horses,  the 
locomotive  not  being  brought  out  until  the  road  was 
pretty  well  cleared. 

In  1836,  the  Utica  and  Schenectady  railroad  made 
a  successful  snow-plow  somewhat  after  the  modern 
fashion.  Since  that  time  inventive  genius  has  been  at 
work  constantly  making  improvements,  until  to-day  a 
snow-plow  is  quite  a  wonderful  piece  of  machinery, 
often  weighing  as  much  as  fifty  tons. 

The  huge  plows  of  Western  railroads,  drawn  by  as 
many  as  twelve  or  fourteen  engines,  show  how  man 
with  his  brains  can  win  the  victory  over  seemingly 
invincible  matter.  Nature  rears  before  him  a  wall  of 
snow  and  ice  that  stretches  away  for  miles  in  extent, 
and  raises  its  head  as  if  in  scorn  of  diminutive 
humanity  who  gazes  on  the  barrier.  Nothing  daunted, 
the  hand  of  man  is  raised  against  his  foe,  and  he 
sends  his  mighty  agent  forward  to  do  his  bidding. 
On  plunge  half  a  score  or  more  of  locomotives  with 


136          FORTY  YEAES  ON  THE  BAIL. 

the  snow-plow  attached.  The  avalanche  is  torn  into 
atoms,  as  time  and  again  its  enemies  make  an  attack, 
until  at  last  the  conquering  engines  give  a  shriek  of 
victory  and  press  in  triumph  over  the  broad  path  left 
by  the  retreating  snow. 

In  the  days  of  old,  with  trains  that  would  scarcely 
weigh  as  much  as  one  engine  does  now,  a  big  snow- 
storm was  the  greatest  dread  of  railroad  men.  It 
meant  to  be  stalled  in  the  country,  miles  away  from 
any  house,  perhaps,  for  two  or  three  days  at  least,  and 
lucky  indeed  was  the  train  that  escaped  so  lightly  as 
that. 

My  first  experience  with  Western  storms  was  in 
the  winter  of  1855,  when,  at  Aurora,  Illinois,  Colonel 
W.  S.  Johnson  narrowly  escaped  death.  It  was  with 
great  difficulty  that  he  was  revived  from  the  stupor 
caused  by  the  extreme  cold.  Six  men  lost  their  lives 
in  that  storm,  within  a  few  miles  of  the  spot  where 
Colonel  Johnson  had  such  a  narrow  escape.  For  six- 
teen days  trains  without  number  were  buried  under 
the  mountains  of  snow  that  blanketed  the  prairie,  and 
when  I  went  down  to  see  the  last  one  pulled  out  I 
found  that  the  whole  train,  engine  and  all,  was  buried 
entirely  out  of  sight,  so  severe  had  been  the  storm. 

Back  in  1856,  when  I  was  running  between  Chicago 
and  Waukegan,  a  furious  storm  buried  our  tracks 
twenty  feet  in  places.  However,  we  did  not  wish  to 


FIGHTING    THE    ELEMENTS.  137 

abandon  the  runs,  and  at  the  usual  hour  I  started  out 
for  Chicago  with  my  train.  Before  we  had  gone  five 
miles  we  ran  into  a  snow-bank  near  Rosehill  and 
stuck  fast.  There  were  only  four  little  ten-ton  engines 
on  the  road  at  that  time,  and  all  of  them  were  at  once 
set  to  work  to  force  a  path  through  the  drifts.  But 
the  little  pigmies  made  no  impression  on  the  mass  of 
half  frozen  snow,  and  a  heavier  engine  was  borrowed 
from  another  road.  It  came  out  with  a  force  of  men 
and  commenced  operations  just  north  of  Nicker  son's 
woods.  The  men  broke  the  icy  crust  off  and  then  the 
engine  plowed  into  it  full  tilt. 

There  was  about  a  mile  of  clear  track  for  the 
engine  to  start  on,  and  when  it  came  flying  down  the 
level  for  its  first  bout  with  the  snow,  our  superintend- 
ent, Colonel  Johnson,  jumped  on  a  fence,  in  his  excite- 
ment, "to  see  the  fun."  I  warned  him  he  was  too 
close  for  safety,  but  he  laughed  at  the  idea  of  danger, 
and  there  he  stayed,  while  I  hastened  to  the  center  of 
a  big  field.  A  moment  later  the  engine  went  into  the 
snow  bank  with  a  rush,  and  almost  at  the  same  mo- 
ment Mr.  Johnson  went  off  the  fence  in  a  back  somer- 
sault, landing  in  a  drift  ten  feet  away.  He  had  been 
struck  by  a  section  of  the  snow  dashed  aside  by  the 
engine,  but  fortunately  was  not  hurt.  The  engine 
could  make  no  progress  against  that  enormous  bulk  of 
snow,  and  nearly  two  hundred  men  were  set  to  work 


138  FORTY  YEARS  ON  THE  RAIL. 

shoveling  it  off  the  track.  For  over  a  week  not  a  train 
passed  over  the  road.  All  business  was  effectually 
blockaded  until  the  men  had  slowly  shoveled  a  clear 
track  for  many  a  long  mile. 

During  a  tremendous  snow-storm  in  the  same 
winter,  my  train  stuck  in  a  field  near  Eosehill. 
Colonel  Johnson  sent  a  messenger  to  me  saying  I 
could  return  to  Waukegan,  so  I  started  to  back  up. 
Two  miles  north  of  Eosehill  we  struck  another  drift 
which  we  could  not  get  through,  so  we  plowed  our 
way  back  to  our  starting  point.  By  that  time  night 
was  near  at  hand  and  the  thermometer  registered  ten 
degrees  below  zero.  We  had  run  out  of  wood  for  the 
engine  and  had  to  abandon  it.  With  the  prospect  of 
a  night  of  suffering  before  us,  it  became  necessary  to 
send  some  one  to  Chicago  to  carry  word  of  our  danger, 
so  David  Hillis,  the  engineer,  Mr.  Shedd,  the  fireman, 
and  I  started  to  walk  to  the  city.  We  trudged  through 
the  deep  drifts,  struggling  along  for  several  miles 
with  the  utmost  difficulty.  Finally  I  could  stand  it 
no  longer.  Cold  had  brought  a  kind  of  lethargy  upon 
me.  I  was  too  tired  to  drag  one  foot  after  the  other. 

"I'm  done  for,  boys,"  I  exclaimed,  insisting  upon 
lying  down  on  one  of  the  deep  drifts  to  go  to  sleep. 

"Brace  up.  Charley,"  Hillis  cheerily  returned. 
"  We're  almost  there." 

Taking  either  arm,  my  comrades  forced  me  to  go 


FIGHTING    THE    ELEMENTS.  139 

on,  though  sorely  against  my  will,  until  at  last  we 
stumbled  upon  a  fence  belonging  to  the  residence  of 
P.  F.  W.  Peck,  in  Lake  View,  one  of  Chicago's 
suburban  towns,  and  adjacent  to  the  city.  We  stag- 
gered across  the  wide  grounds  that  surround  the 
mansion,  struggling  and  fighting  our  way  until  we 
reached  the  door. 

It  was  nine  o'clock  by  that  time.  I  rang  the  bell 
as  vigorously  as  my  weak  hands  could  do  it,  and  Mr. 
Peck  opened  the  door.  At  first  he  looked  at  us  sus- 
piciously. He  was  not  inclined  to  receive  us  into  his 
home,  but  I  explained  to  him  our  situation,  after 
which  he  kindly  welcomed  us  within  his  hospitable 
walls. 

Routing  up  the  servants,  Mr.  Peck  soon  had  restor- 
atives to  warm  our  chilled  and  weary  frames.  Then 
he  had  a  lunch  set  out  for  us,  and  we  ate  with  a  relish 
such  as  only  men  in  our  exhausted  condition  can  do. 

As  soon  as  we  were  able  to  start,  we  left  our  place 
of  shelter  and  pushed  on  to  Chicago.  Just  as  the 
clocks  were  tolling  midnight  we  marched  down  the 
city  streets.  I  went  to  the  Briggs  House  and  called 
Colonel  Johnson,  who  promptly  sent  relief  to  the 
beleaguered  passengers. 

All  that  winter  we  had  a  hard  fight  with  snow,  it 
being  a  season  of  unusual  severity. 

No   longer   ago  than   1SS2,  while   running  a  hotel 


140          FOETY  YEAKS  ON  THE  BAIL. 

car  between  Council  Bluffs  and  Chicago,  I  ran  into  a 
snow-storm  that  tied  us  up  until  we  were  six  days 
making  the  run.  The  thermometer  registered  thirty 
degrees  below  zero,  and  the  wind  was  whistling  a  gale, 
when  we  ran  into  the  first  snow  bank  and  stuck  fast, 
nearly  buried  out  of  sight  in  the  drifts  that  the  wind 
rapidly  swept  over  us.  We  were  about  a  mile  from 
Belle  Plaine  station,  and  before  we  had  been  there 
long,  our  coal  supply  gave  out.  In  the  face  of  such  a 
blizzard  it  would  have  been  as  much  as  a  man's  life 
was  worth  to  venture  away  from  the  train,  and  with 
the  prospect  of  slowly  freezing  to  death  our  situation 
grew  very  desperate.  The  ladies  bundled  themselves 
in  their  wraps  and  huddled  about  the  stoves,  talking 
over  the  grave  danger,  with  pale  cheeks  and  tear-wet 
eyes,  but  they  bore  up  bravely  and  not  one  of  them 
weakened  even  in  the  face  of  what  seemed  almost 
certain  death.  The  men  gathered  in  knots  at  the  ends 
of  the  cars  and  discussed  some  method  of  saving  the 
helpless  women. 

"  Some  one  must  face  this  storm  and  bring  relief," 
said  one  of  the  gentlemen. 

"It  is  our  only  hope,"  answered  a  young  man,  and 
then  with  his  teeth  set  firm,  he  added: 

"Gentlemen,  I  have  no  wife,  no  family  depending 
on  me.  If  I  should  die  in  the  attempt,  I  could  best 
of  all  this  group  be  spared.  I'll  try  it." 


FIGHTING    THE    ELEMENTS.  141 

"Not  much,"  replied  the  man  who  at  first  had 
suggested  it,  but  before  he  could  say  more,  a  faint 
shout  was  heard,  apparently  from  the  depths  of  the 
snow-drift. 

There  was  a  rush  for  the  only  door  on  the  whole 
train  that  could  be  opened  and,  as  we  crowded  on  the 
platform,  we  saw,  a  few  feet  off,  a  sleigh  loaded  to  the 
guards  with  eatables  and  fuel. 

The  citizens  of  Belle  Plaine  had  learned  of  our 
situation  and,  knowing  what  dire  straits  we  must  be 
in,  had  organized 'a  relief  corps  and  promptly  sent  it 
to  our  rescue.  The  men  in  the  sleigh  shoveled  a 
narrow  path  to  the  train  and  a  few  minutes  later  a 
roaring  fire  was  blazing  in  the  stoves  and  the  passen- 
gers were  enjoying  such  a  lunch  as  they  had  not 
tasted  for  many  a  day. 

With  such  a  strain  taken  off  our  minds,  we  be- 
came as  jolly  a  group  of  people  as  ever  made  the 
rafters  ring.  We  remained  there  several  days,  and 
after  plowing  our  way  out  we  ran  into  another 
avalanche  of  snow  near  Boone,  Iowa,  where  we  were 
detained  for  nearly  two  days  more.  By  that  time  my 
passengers  were  on  the  best  of  terms  with  each  other, 
and  our  detention  was  more  of  a  pleasure  than  a 
privation.  I  organized  a  male  quartette,  and  our 
singing  proved  a  most  satisfactory  means  of  whiling 
away  many  an  hour. 


142          FORTY  YEARS  ON  THE  RAIL. 

One  of  the  crowd  improvised  some  verses  which  we 
sang  to  the  familiar  strains  of  "Good-bye,  my  lover, 
good-bye." 

I  will  give  a  few  verses  as  an  example  of  the 
whole  song,  not  so  much  for  their  merit,  as  for  the 
fun  and  good  feeling  they  represent. 

There  was  a  train  blocked  in  the  snow, 

Good-bye,  my  lover,  good-bye  ; 
The  passengers  all  were  anxious  to  go, 

Good-bye,  my  lover,  good-bye. 

Dinner  was  served  upon  the  car,  . 

Good-bye,  my  lover,  good-bye  ; 
We'd  beef  and  chicken  and  polar  b'ar, 

Good-bye,  my  lover,  good  bye. 

Captain  George  is  an  elegant  man, 

Good-bye,  my  lover,  good-bye  ; 
To  please  his  passengers  he  tries  all  he  can, 

Good-bye,  my  lover,  good-bye. 

If  to  Chicago  you  would  get  back, 

Good-bye,  my  lover,  good-bye; 
Just  shoulder  your  grip  and  start  up  the  track, 

Good-bye,  my  lover,  good-bye. 

And  if  it  does  not  hail  or  rain, 

Good-bye,  my  lover,  good-bye  ; 
You're  sure  to  get  there  ahead  of  the  train, 

Good-bye,  my  lover,  good-bye. 

With  these  and  other  songs  we  cheerily  spent  the 
hours  of  waiting,  and  we  had  such  a  jolly  good  time 
that  there  was  always  a  party  of  Boone  residents  with 
us  on  the  train. 

Not    long    after  that   I    started   from    Chicago    to 


FIGHTING   THE   ELEMENTS.  143 

Oruaha  in  a  pretty  hard  snow-storm,  and  among  the 
passengers  were  the  Rev.  David  Millspaugh,  an 
Episcopal  clergyman,  of  Omaha,  and  John  Dillon,  the 
actor.  Our  train  stuck  in  the  snow  out  on  the  prairie 
the  next  night,  and  the  following  day  being  Sunday, 
we  had  religious  services  on  board  conducted  by  Mr. 
Millspaugh,  with  the  singing  in  charge  of  a  very 
good  quartette  hastily  organized. 

"  Give  us  a  rousing  sermon,"  I  said  to  Mr.  Mills- 
paugh. "  It'll  bring  us  help  all  the  sooner." 

Sure  enough  before  the  clergyman  had  fairly  com- 
menced his  discourse,  four  engines  came  plowing 
through  the  snow  to  pull  us  out.  It  was  none  too 
soon  either,  for  we  had  nearly  exhausted  our  supply  of 
provisions.  We  were  four  days  and  nights  in  making 
the  trip. 


CHAPTEE  VIII. 

NOTED    PASSENGERS. 

During  my  long  association  with  the  traveling 
public,  I  have  not  only  made  warm  personal  friends, 
but  I  have  come  in  contact  with  some  of  the  greatest 
men  of  the  nation.  Men  have  been  on  my  train  whose 
careers  are  identified  with  our  country's  progress  and 
whose  lives  are  now  embodied  in  its  history. 

In  New  England  I  thus  met  many  of  the  great 
men  of  the  past  generation.  In  those  days  the  nation 
looked  to  the  Atlantic  seaboard  for  her  leaders  in  all 
departments  of  thought  and  action.  But  I  have  seen 
in  my  forty  years  of  experience  the  Hues  stretched 
out,  first  by  the  Erie  road  to  the  outer  boundaries  of 
New  York  State,  then  into  the  states  along  the  Ohio 
River,  and  finally  to  the  Pacific  Ocean,  so  that  now 
greatness  knows  no  North,  no  South,  no  East,  no 
"West,  but  our  nation  looks  to  all  sections  of  our 
country  for  her  leaders,  and  the  railroad  carries  noted 
passengers  from  every  point  of  the  compass. 

I  have  lived  to  see  several  historical  epochs,  and 
the  representative*  men  of  each  have  been  many  times 

144 


146          FORTY  YEARS  ON  THE  RAIL. 

my  passengers.  When  I  began  railroading  the 
Mexican  war  was  at  its  height;  then  followed  the 
slavery  agitation,  then  our  great  civil  strife,  and  then 
the  material  progress  when  railroad  extensions  and 
internal  improvements  seemed  to  absorb  the  whole 
nation.  The  president  who  saw  us  through  our  strife 
with  Mexico  traveled  with  me  when  he  was  in  the 
midst  of  the  perplexities  of  that  struggle.  The 
greatest  orator  of  our  country  rode  with  me  just  two 
years  before  his  voice  thundered  out  in  the  halls  of 
congress  in  defense  of  the  fugitive  slave  law,  in  1850. 
The  greatest  editor,  who  gave  his  paper,  the  New 
York  "  Tribune,"  to  the  cause  of  the  down-trodden 
black;  the  greatest  preacher,  who  welcomed  to  the 
pulpit  of  his  church  the  negro  who  had  just  escaped 
the  lash  of  his  master;  the  greatest  president,  who 
with  a  stroke  of  his  pen  severed  the  chains  of  the 
slave  and  set  the  bondsman  and  his  children  free 
forever — all  these  mighty  men  of  the  past  have  been 
my  passengers. 

I  have  carried  back  and  forth  hundreds  of  men  less 
noted  in  a  national  sense,  but  men  who  were  so  strong 
in  their  noble  work,  so  willing  to  help  on  the  right, 
that  though  their  fame  is  confined  to  the  sections  in 
which  they  lived,  their  good  work  remains  as  an 
enduring  monument  for  all  time.  Many  of  them  were 
hissed  at  and  scorned  for  their  opinions  at  first,  but 


NOTED    PASSENGEES.  147 

they  lived  long  enough  to  see  the  cause  which  they 
espoused  vindicated  and  themselves  appreciated  and 
revered  wherever  they  were  known. 

Many  of  my  passengers  who  lifted  their  voices  in 
the  cause  of  liberty  were  among  the  foremost  in  pro- 
moting railroad  extensions  and  the  progress  of  the 
great  "West.  Stephen  A.  Douglas,  whose  voice  was 
raised  in  defense  of  free  soil,  and  who  bore  the  hoots 
and  jeers  of  an  angry  mob  to  proclaim  his  defense  of 
the  Kansas-Nebraska  bill,  was  the  chief  instrument  in 
obtaining  the  enormous  land  grant  for  Illinois,  which 
makes  her  to-day  the  banner  state  of  railroads.  On 
July  1,  1862,  President  Lincoln  signed  the  bill  for 
the  Union  Pacific  railroad,  and  on  the  same  day  issued 
a  call  for  three  hundred  thousand  men,  the  first  of 
which  he  felt  was  necessary  for  the  future  binding 
together  of  the  parts  of  our  country;  the  latter  of 
which  he  knew  would  alone  maintain  the  Union  of  our 
fathers.  The  same  editor,  whose  "Tribune"  took  up 
the  cause  of  slavery  and  the  war,  was  among  the  fore- 
most to  urge  the  development  of  our  prairie  and  our 
mountain  states,  and  to  his  advice,  "Go  West,  young 
man,  go  West,"  do  those  states  to-day  owe  many  of 
their  most  enterprising  and  capable  public  men. 

In  1848,  Daniel  Webster  was  a  passenger  on  the 
train  on  which  I  was  running  from  Boston  to  Port- 
land. I  was  only  a  verdant  youth  then,  and  I  was 


148          FORTY  YEARS  ON  THE  RAIL. 

struck  with  a  kind  of  awe  as  I  looked  at  the  great 
orator.  His  fine  face  and  noble  bearing  made  an  im- 
pression on  me  that  I  never  shall  forget.  Mr.  Webster 
noticed  me,  my  face  probably  showing  the  admiration 
I  so  deeply  felt.  He  asked  me  a  few  questions  and 
then  said: 

''So  you  are  going  to  be  a  railroad  man,  are  you?" 

"Yes,  sir,"  I  replied  modestly. 

"  You  will  find  it  a  life  full  of  temptations,  but  you 
can  be  a  good  man  for  all  that.  Some  of  the  best 
men  in  the  world  have  had  the  most  temptation.  Do 
your  duty,  be  honest,  and  you  will  come  out  all  right." 

Many  a  time  since  that  day  I  have  thought  with 
pride  that  I  thus  conversed  with  the  greatest  orator 
America  has  ever  known. 

Mr.  Webster  was  then  considered  at  the  zenith  of 
his  power.  Three  years  before  he  had  taken  his  seat 
in  the  United  States  Senate  as  the  successor  of  the 
great  Eufus  Choate,  of  Massachusetts.  In  1850,  he 
became  secretary  of  state  in  President  Fillmore's 
cabinet.  In  1852,  he  met  with  a  serious  carriage 
accident,  and  his  health  failed,  so  he  retired  to  his 
home  in  Northfield,  Massachusetts.  Gradually  his 
giant  frame  gave  way  before  illness  and  he  died  in 
October,  1852,  lamented  by  the  whole  nation.  I  can 
well  remember  the  sadness  that  was  universally  felt 
on  the  day  we  heard  of  the  great  statesman's  death. 


NOTED    PASSENGERS.  149 

James  K.  Polk  was  also  on  my  train  going  to  Port- 
land, in  1847.  I  remember  him  as  being  of  low 
stature,  with  a  mild,  unassuming  manner.  His  broad, 
high  forehead,  well-set,  dark  eyes,  and  his  firm,  ex- 
pressive mouth,  marked  him  as  a  man  endowed  with 
rare  gifts.  If  I  recollect  aright,  his  clothes  were 
made  loose,  and,  he  being  very  thin,  his  dress  thus 
gave  him  an  appearance  of  being  larger  than  he  really 
was.  Mr.  Polk  also  spoke  kindly  to  me,  and  wished 
me  success  in  my  new  life,  for  I  had  told  him  I  had 
tried  my  new  vocation  only  a  few  months. 

In  those  days  passengers  made  a  great  deal  of  rail- 
road men.  There  were  no  porters,  nor  Pullman 
coaches  either,  so  dignitaries  had  to  ride  in  the  ordi- 
nary cars  and  put  up  with  the  same  things  as  did 
people  less  famous. 

In  the  year  I  met  Mr.  Polk,  he  and  his  cabinet 
were  wrestling  with  the  problem  of  the  Mexican  war. 
In  February,  the  Mexican  commander-in-chief,  Santa 
Anna,  had  been  defeated  by  General  Taylor,  at  Buena 
Vista,  which  battle  secured  to  the  Americans  the 
frontier  of  the  Rio  Grande.  In  March,  after  a  furious 
bombardment,  the  castle  and  city  of  Vera  Cruz  had 
surrendered  to  our  brave  General  Scott,  who,  after 
a  brilliant  campaign,  in  September  entered  the  city 
of  Mexico  in  triumph.  Mr.  Polk  did  not  long  sur- 
vive the  end  of  his  presidential  term,  as  three  months 


150  FORTY    YEARS    ON   TflE   RAIL. 

after  his  retirement,  in  1849,  he  died  at  Nashville, 
Tennessee. 

In  1849,  while  baggage-master  on  the  Boston  and 
Maine  road,N  my  conductor,  Elbridge  Wood,  once 
called  upon  me  to  help  him  in  putting  an  unruly 
passenger  off  the  car.  A  short  time  afterward  the 
latter  brought  suit  against  the  road  to  recover  dam- 
ages. Our  attorney  was  George  Minot,  and  that  of 
the  passenger  was  Benjamin  F.  Butler.  The  trial 
came  off  at  Lowell,  Massachusetts.  I  was  called  as 
a  witness  and  gave  my  evidence  in  a  straightforward 
way,  in  accordance  with  the  facts.  When  Mr.  Butler 
took  me  in  hand  he  gave  me  a  terrible  going  over. 
The  passenger  had  testified  that  I  had  punched  him 
in  the  face  with  an  umbrella  while  in  the  act  of  put- 
ting him  off.  This  was  a  gross  falsehood,  but  of 
course  his  attorney  made  the  most  of  it. 

"  Gentlemen  of  the  jury,"  said  Mr.  Butler,  "  look 
at  that  young  man.  Look  at  him,  I  say.  To  think 
that  so  nice  a  looking  youth  should  thrust  an  umbrella 
into  my  client's  face!  Why,  it's  an  awful  thing.  He 
might  have  put  an  eye  out  and  disfigured  my  client 
for  life." 

More  of  the  same  kind  of  talk  followed,  and  soon  I 
became  so  enraged  at  the  slander  being  poured  on  my 
defenceless  head  that  I  wanted  to  go  right  up  to  the 
lawyer  and  give  him  a  sound  whipping.  I  made  a 


NOTED    PASSENGERS.  151 

Vow  then  and  there,  however,  that  if  I  ever  met  him 
again  I  would  give  him  the  greatest  thrashing  ever 
known  in  history. 

Thirty-five  years  passed  before  I  once  more  met 
Mr.  Butler  face  to  face.  I  was  then  running  a  Pull- 
man car  from  Chicago  to  Minneapolis,  and  Mr.  Butler 
was  on  his  way  to  St.  Paul,  being  then  engaged  in  his 
political  campaign  of  1884.  A  gentleman  who  was 
one  of  the  general's  party  happened  to  be  a  friend  of 
mine,  so  I  told  him  the  story  of  the  trial  in  1849. 
Taking  me  into  the  dining-car,  where  Mr.  Butler  and 
his  friends  were  waiting  for  dinner  to  be  brought  in, 
my  friend  introduced  me  to  the  noted  man. 

"General,"  I  said  in  a  few  moments,  "I  have  had 
a  grudge  against  you  for  thirty-five  years,  and  I  just 
thought  I  would  come  in  and  settle  with  you." 

"A  grudge?  What  is  it,  Captain?"  asked  the 
General. 

I  then  told  the  story  of  the  trial. 

"  That  was  a  good  while  ago,  Captain,  and  you  won 
the  case,"  said  Mr.  Butler,  with  a  hearty  laugh.  "  I 
have  grown  pretty  old  since  then,  and  you  don't  want 
to  thrash  me  now,  do  you?" 

The  whole  party  burst  into  a  roar  of  laughter,  in 
which  the  presidential  candidate  heartily  joined,  finally 
inviting  me  to  take  dinner  with  him  and  his  friends. 

"  Now,  Captain,  seeing  that  we  have  made  up  and 


152  FORTY  YEARS  ON  THE  RAIL. 

are  good  friends,  I  suppose  you  will  vote  for  me,"  said 
General  Butler  when  we  closed  our  pleasant  inter- 
view. 

Jenny  Lind,  the  "  Swedish  Nightingale,"  as  she 
was  called,  made  a  flying  trip  on  my  train  to  Portland 
in  1851.  An  immense  crowd  of  people  were  at  the 
depot  in  Boston  to  see  her  off,  and  all  along  the  road 
she  was  enthusiastically  greeted.  I  well  remember 
when  a  gentleman  of  Boston  paid  six  hundred  and 
twenty-five  dollars  for  a  single  ticket  to  one  of  her 
concerts.  It  was  said  that  during  her  engagement 
with  P.  T.  Barnum  the  receipts  were  $712,151,  of 
which  Jenny  Lind  received  $176,675.  Barnum's  con- 
tract was  one  thousand  dollars  a  night  for  one  hun- 
dred and  fifty  nights,  but  he  voluntarily  gave  the 
great  songstress  more  than  he  had  promised  her. 

During  her  stay  in  America  Jenny  Lind  was  hon- 
ored as  much  for  her  generous  gifts  for  various  chari- 
table purposes  and  her  worthy  private  character  as 
she  was  for  her  wonderful  singing.  At  Boston  she 
was  married  to  Otto  Goldschmidt,  a  young  pianist, 
who  had  accompanied  her  during  her  American  con- 
certs. 

The  poet  John  G.  Saxe  was  often  on  my  train 
while  I  ran  on  the  Western  Vermont  road.  He  was 
the  most  forgetful  man  I  ever  knew,  and  never  got  off 
a  train  without  leaving  behind  his  cane,  or  hat,  or 


NOTED    PASSENGERS.  153 

overshoes,  or  overcoat,  not  being  conscious  of  the  fact 
until  reminded  of  it.  One  day  the  poet  was  thus 
greeted  by  a  friend  as  he  was  going  up  the  street: 

"Hello,  where's  your  hat?" 

'On  my  head,  of  course,"  replied  Mr.  Saxe,  put- 
ting up  his  hand  to  find  out. 

"  That's  strange.  Where  can  it  be?"  then  said 
the  puzzled  poet. 

"Where  have  you  come  from?"  inquired  his 
friend. 

"  From  the  train." 

"Then  I  guess  your  hat  is  still  aboard." 

Sure  enough,  when  the  truth  became  known,  the 
hat  had  been  found  by  a  brakeman  in  the  car,  and  so 
it  got  safely  back  to  its  owner. 

Notorious  people  travel  as  much  as  others.  Of 
these  I  remember  Jim  Fisk  frequently  rode  with  me 
on  the  Western  Vermont  railroad,  in  the  days  when 
he  was  peddling  dress  goods  through  the  State.  He 
had  the  finest  peddler's  wagon  I  ever  saw  and  drove  a 
fine  span  of  horses  with  silver  mounted  harnesses.  He 
sold  silk  goods  chiefly,  and  bought  them  in  New  York, 
making  a  good  deal  of  money.  My  wife  bought  a  silk 
dress  from  him  which  is  in  existence  to-day,  proving 
to  be  all  he  recommended.  Fisk  afterward  became  a 
member  of  the  New  York  Stock  Exchange  and  then 
connected  himself  with  Gould  and  the  Erie  railroad. 


154          FORTY  YEARS  ON  THE  RAIL. 

The  story  of  his  later  life  is  well  known  to  all  and 
does  not  need  repetition  here. 

During  mj  long  term  of  railroading  in  the  West,  I 
met  a  great  many  well-known  people.  Stephen  A. 
Douglas  rode  with  me  on  his  way  to  Milwaukee  in 
1869,  when  engaged  in  his  presidential  campaign.  At 
Waukegan  the  senator  got  out  of  the  train  and  made  a 
little  speech,  a  great  crowd  having  gathered  there  to 
see  him.  Just  as  Mr.  Douglas  alighted  from  the  car 
an  Irish  woman,  who  was  somewhat  under  the  influ- 
ence of  liquor,  rushed  up  to  him  and  exclaimed: 

"  Oh,  Mr.  McDooglas,  sure'n  you're  a  great  man 
and  a  sthrong  man,  an'  we'll  all  vote  for  yez.  Ye' 11  be 
the  nixt  prisidint  sure,  an'  I  want  to  kiss  yez." 

It  seems  that  this  admirer  of  the  Little  Giant 
thought  he  was  an  Irishman,  and  that  his  name  must 
have  the  prefix  which  she  gave  it. 

In  the  same  year,  Abraham  Lincoln  went  to  Wau- 
kegan with  me  during  his  presidential  campaign.  He 
was  to  make  a  speech  at  Dickenson's  hall,  at  Wauke- 
gan, and  I  was  on  the  platform  as  one  of  the  com- 
mittee. Hon.  H.  W.  Blodgett,  now  a  judge  in  the 
United  States  district  court  of  Chicago,  introduced 
Mr.  Lincoln  to  the  audience,  and  the  orator  had  just 
started  his  speech  when  the  cry  of  fire  was  raised.  E. 
P.  Ferry,  then  a  prominent  lawyer,  and  who  has  since 
been  governor  of  Washington  Territory,  was  also  on 


NOTED    PASSENGERS.  155 

the  platform,  and  the  instant  the  alarm  was  heard  he 
jumped  up  and  shouted: 

"Keep  your  seats!  Keep  your  seats!  This  is  a 
Democratic  dodge  to  break  up  the  meeting." 

This  prompt  action  of  Mr.  Ferry  probably  pre- 
vented the  death  of  many  persons  which  excitement 
and  a  rush  might  have  caused.  His  words  produced 
such  a  calm  that  the  crowd,  which  packed  the  hall  to 
overflowing,  departed  quietly  and  quickly.  The  fire 
proved  to  be  in  a  building  not  far  away,  and  Mr.  Lin- 
coln was  not  able,  on  account  of  the  excitement,  to 
deliver  his  speech  that  night. 

Back  in  those  old  days  there  was  a  fund  of  remin- 
iscence rich  Avith  interest,  now  a  generation  has  passed 
since  the  scenes  were  enacted.  I  remember  well  the 
day  when  honest  old  Abe  was  nominated  for  the  presi- 
dency. I  was  in  the  throng  at  the  Wigwam  and  joined 
in  the  procession  that  was  formed  amid  the  wildest 
enthusiasm.  We  carried  rails  on  our  shoulders  in 
memory  of  the  day  when  our  great  leader  was  only  a 
humble  rail-splitter. 

The  stirring  scenes  of  Mr.  Lincoln's  campaign  and 
of  the  civil  strife  that  took  place  during  his  life  are  so 
familiar  that  I  will  not  dwell  upon  them  here.  The 
day  of  his  assassination  I  can  never  forget.  Just  as 
my  train  arrived  at  Evanston,  twelve  miles  from  Chi- 
cago, the  news  of  the  terrible  deed  reached  us  by  wire. 


156  FORTY  YEARS  ON  THE  RAIL. 

Quite  a  number  of  prominent  Republicans  were  in  the 
train.  In  the  smoking-car  was  a  jolly  company, 
among  whom  were  Judge  Blodgett,  and  Mr.  Ferry, 
whom  I  have  just  mentioned.  Somebody's  good  joke 
had  made  the  whole  party  burst  into  a  roar  of  merri- 
ment, when  I  entered. 

"  Gentlemen,"  I  said,  with  the  message  crushed  in 
my  hand,  and  my  voice  husky  with  deep  emotion, 
"gentlemen,  President  Lincoln  is  dead!" 

A  silence  fell  upon  the  company,  and  many  a  cheek 
grew  deathly  pale,  while  words  seemed  denied  them 
all. 

"President  Lincoln  dead!"  gasped  Mr.  Ferry  at 
length.  "No,  no;  it  can't  be  true;  it  can't  be  true." 

In  answer  I  spread  the  message  before  them,  and 
as  some  one  read  it  aloud  there  was  not  a  dry  eye  in 
the  car.  A  pall  seemed  to  settle  down  upon  us  for  the 
rest  of  the  trip,  and  a  sadder  lot  of  passengers  never 
stepped  from  a  train. 

Horace  Greeley  was  once  one  of  my  passengers  on 
the  Waukegan  run.  We  had  orders  to  make  ten  minutes' 
extra  time  that  day,  and  the  Michigan  Southern  road 
held  their  train  for  New  York  fifteen  minutes,  so  as  to 
enable  Mr.  Greeley  to  make  connections  for  the  East 
in  Chicago.  When  we  arrived  at  the  depot,  the  hack- 
men,  who  were  a  rough  set  of  men  in  those  days,  sup- 
posed the  distinguished  man  to  be  some  verdant 


NOTED    PASSENGERS.  157 

countryman,  his  odd  dress,  big  umbrella,  his  hat  on 
the  back  of  his  head  giving  that  impression.  Several 
hackmen  rushed  up  and  seized  the  editor. 

"  Here,  old  seed,  get  into  this  hack,"  said  one 
driver,  pulling  Mr.  Greeley  to  his  conveyance. 

We  rescued  our  noted  passenger  from  the  clutches 
of  his  pursuers  and  placed  him  in  the  elegant  carriage 
which  was  awaiting  him. 

"Look  here,"  I  said  to  the  hackman,  "that's 
Horace  Greeley." 

"Jingo!  Is  that  so?"  exclaimed  the  man,  for 
once  in  his  life  taken  aback,  and  the  crowd  laughed  at 
his  expense. 

Mr.  Greeley  seemed  to  enjoy  the  joke  as  well  as 
the  rest,  and  departed  amid  the  cheers  of  all  the  by- 
standers. 

There  are  few  men  who,  in  a  private  capacity,  have 
had  so  much  influence  in  this  country  as  Horace 
Greeley,  and  few  men  have  been  so  well  known  by  all 
classes  of  society.  The  old  white  hat,  the  flowing 
gray  hair  and  beard  were  as  famous  in  his  day  as  was 
the  man  himself.  Never  did  a  man  live  who  was  more 
generous.  Indeed,  Mr.  Greeley 's  generosity  was 
carried  to  a  fault,  but  we  who  knew  him  can  never 
forget  how  the  great  editor  took  up  the  cause  of  the 
oppressed  and  the  suffering  everywhere.  He  was  a 
humanitarian  in  the  largest  sense  of  the  word. 


158          FORTY  YEARS  ON  THE  RAIL. 

Hon.  William  Cody,  better  known  as  "  Buffalo 
Bill,"  was  once  a  passenger  on  my  car  "  Cataract,1' 
running  to  Jersey  City.  He  had  the  exclusive  use  of 
the  drawing-room,  and  ordered  all  his  meals  in  the 
car.  He  liked  good  living,  and  good  drinking,  too, 
for  that  matter,  as  his  b*lls  on  my  car  can  show.  How 
Mr.  Cody  has  received  his  many  titles  is  not  generally 
known  to  the  public,  so  I  shall  quote  the  following 
from  a  letter  recently  received  by  me  from  North 
Platte,  Nebraska: 

"  When  William  Cody  was  a  small  boy  he  lived 
hereabouts,  while  white  men  were  few  and  Indians 
were  plenty.  One  day  when  "  Bill  "  was  fooling  with 
a  little  gun  he  shot  an  Indian,  and  thereby  won  a 
boyish  fame  and  brought  his  name  before  the  people 
at  a  youthful  age.  When  grown  to  manhood  he 
received  the  contract  of  furnishing  buffalo  meat  to 
the  builders  of  the  Kansas  Pacific  railroad,  at  the  rate 
of  one  hundred  dollars  a  month  for  his  services.  He 
had  a  number  of  hair-breadth  escapes  in  this  business, 
but  was  fully  compensated  for  all  his  dangers  and 
hardships  by  winning  the  title  "  Buffalo  Bill/'  This, 
together  with  the  chance  acquaintance  of  a  novel 
writer  of  the  tomahawk  and  scalping-knife  species, 
brought  him  fame,  and  his  election  to  the  Nebraska 
legislature,  when  there  didn't  happen  to  be  anybody 
else  to  send,  added  "  Honorable  "  to  the  name  already 


NOTED    PASSENGERS.  159 

so  well  known.  The  "  Colonel  "  was  thrust  upon  him 
by  the  governor  of  Nebraska  before  Mr.  Cody  went  to 
Europe,  so  that  he  might  make  a  still  greater  sensa- 
tion than  even  his  show." 

Henry  Ward  Beecher  took  a  trip  with  me  on  a 
Pullman  car  while  I  was  running  from  Chicago  to 
New  York,  and  I  was  impressed  with  his  intellectual 
ability.  He  bore  upon  him  the  marks  of  greatness. 
The  most  striking  characteristic  of  Mr.  Beecher  was 
his  vitality.  No  one  could  see  his  big  frame,  the 
strong  limbs  and  deep  chest,  the  broad  shoulders  and 
great  head,  the  loose  hair  thrown  back  from  the  full 
forehead,  the  large  eyes,  and  the  heavy  lips,  without 
feeling  that  he  was  a  man  of  power.  He  was  capable 
not  only  of  bursts  of  energy,  but  of  long  and  very 
exhausting  work. 

Mr.  Beecher  prided  himself  on  having  made  the 
pulpit  of  his  church  a  free  platform.  From  it  spoke 
the  heroes  of  the  old  anti-slavery  fight,  with  Wendell 
Phillips  in  the  van.  There  it  was  that  they  raised 
money  to  buy  the  liberty  of  slaves.  It  re-echoed  with  a 
welcome  to  Kossuth  and  with  appeals  for  the  oppressed 
at  home  and  abroad.  From  it  came  calls  for  charity, 
for  education,  for  freedom,  and  for  humanity.  I  can 
well  remember  when  Mr.  Beecher  startled  the  country 
with  his  bold  denunciations  of  slavery.  He  began  his 
work  in  this  line  at  a  very  early  day.  In  1840,  Boston 


160          FORTY  YEARS  ON  THE  RAIL. 

railways  built  a  mean,  plain  car  for  negroes  to  ride  in. 
It  was  called  the  "  Jim  Crow "  car.  Charles  Lenox 
Redmond,  an  educated  colored  man,  entertained  in 
England  by  persons  of  rank  and  fame,  and  commis- 
sioned by  O'Connell  and  Father  Mathew  to  bear 
greetings  from  liberty  in  England  to  liberty  in 
America,  found,  on  going  from  Boston  to  Salem,  his 
home,  that  he  must  ride  in  the  "  Jim  Crow "  car. 
In  such  a  time  Mr.  Beecher  began  to  ask  the  colored 
men  to  sit  on  the  platform  in  his  church,  and  thus 
the  "  negro  car  "  was  met  in  equity  by  the  refuge  of 
the  greatest  pulpit  the  world  possessed. 

Mr.  Beecher  never  missed  a  train,  but  he  always 
calculated  to  the  second,  having  a  watch  that  was  as 
true  as  the  needle  to  the  pole.  Major  Pond  thus  gives 
a  characteristic  sketch  of  how  Mr.  Beecher  planned  to 
get  to  the  depot. 

"  I  went  to  where  Mrs.  Beecher  stood  looking  out 
of  the  window.  There  in  the  middle  of  the  street, 
with  a  lot  of  children  around  him,  was  Mr.  Beecher  in 
his  cardigan  jacket,  a  silk  hat  on  his  head,  and  a  stick 
in  his  mouth,  with  strings  attached,  as  children  make 
bits,  and  he  was  prancing  up  and  down  and  back  and 
forth,  and  playing  horse  with  the  youngsters.  You 
would  have  died  laughing  seeing  that  sight. 

"  '  Henry,'  exclaimed  Mrs.  Beecher,  '  what  on  earth 
are  you  doing?  Do  you  know  what  a  sight  you  are? 
You  will  lose  the  train.' 


NOTED    PASSENGERS.  161 

"Mr.  Beecher  stopped,  drew  out  his  watch  —  he 
always  carried  a  first-class  time-keeper — and,  replying 
as  he  put  it  back, 

"  'No  I  won't;  I've  got  two  minutes  yet,'  off  he  gal- 
loped with  the  children  at  his  heels  in  high  glse.  He 
used  up  the  two  minutes,  and  we  just  caught  the  ferry 
in  time." 

Mr.  Beecher  was  a  good  traveler.  He  was  always 
in  the  best  of  spirits  on  a  train,  and  was  as  approach- 
able while  on  the  rail  as  anywhere  on  earth.  I  doubt 
whether  there  ever  was  a  public  man  with  a  similar 
taxing  position,  and  subject  as  he  was  all  his  life  to 
the  most  searching  criticism  from  people  and  news- 
papers, who  was  so  well  known  for  his  amiability  and 
approachableness.  A  Chicago  reporter  thus  tells  of 
an  interview  with  the  great  preacher : 

"  '  Mr.  Beecher,  I  am  a  reporter,  and  I ' — 

"  '  Ah,'  he  said,  '  I  thought  you  were  a  very  good 
looking  young  man.' 

"  '  Now,  Mr.  Beecher,'  I  said  in  breathless  haste, 
'  I  desire  to  roll  the  wheel  of  conversation  around  the 
axle-tree  of  your  understanding  for  a  while.' 

"  '  I  see,'  he  replied  earnestly.  '  You  wish  to  unwind 
the  thread  of  thought  from  the  spool  of  my  mind.' 

"  Having   got    started   in   this  sort  of  fun,  it  was 
several  minutes  before  I  could  switch  him  off  on  the 
track  of  business." 
11 


162  FORTY  YEARS  ON  THE  RAIL. 

Many  years  ago  I  had  the  honor  of  the  presence  of 
James  G.  Blaine  among  my  passengers.  I  gave  him 
a  hearty  shake  of  the  hands  and  said  that  I  felt 
acquainted  with  him,  as  I  had  made  my  wedding  trip 
to  Augusta  in  1849,  and  this,  it  seemed  to  me  ought 
to  make  us  a  sort  of  cousins.  Mr.  Blaine  took  the 
joke  in  the  spirit  I  meant  it,  and  then  I  remarked  that 
I  hoped  some  day  to  see  him  president  of  the  United 
States.  This  was  long  before  the  Maine  statesman 
was  ever  spoken  of  for  that  office,  or  had  won  his 
noted  title  of  the  "  Plumed  Knight,"  but  my  admira- 
tion for  the  man  led  me  to  make  the  remark. 

Royalty  has  had  only  one  representative  among 
my  passengers,  and  that  was  the  Grand  Duke 
Alexis  of  Hussia,  who  was  making  a  tour  of  the  United 
States.  He  was  on  his  way  to  Milwaukee  when  he 
took  his  trip  with  me. 

Dr.  Vincent,  the  founder  of  the  Chautauqua  Liter- 
ary and  Scientific  Circle,  was  often  a  passenger  with 
me  on  my  Waukegan  train.  He  was  then  in  the 
Garrett  Biblical  Institute  at  Evanston.  Few  men 
have  done  so  great  a  work  as  Dr.  Vincent.  His  pen, 
his  voice,  and  his  example,  are  always  on  the  side  of 
religion  and  education,  and  his  influence  extends 
around  the  world. 

Among  the  greatest  reformers  of  the  day  is 
Frances  Willard,  of  Evanston.  When  a  little  girl, 


NOTED    PASSENGERS.  163 

and  during  many  succeeding  years,  she  often  was  on 
my  train  going  to  and  from  Chicago,  and  her  father, 
mother  and  brother,  I  knew  well.  Before  beginning 
her  temperance  work,  Miss  Willard  was  dean  of  the 
Women's  College  at  Evanston.  It  is  as  president  of 
the  Women's  Christian  Temperance  Union  that  she  is 
best  known  to  the  world,  and  her  work  in  this  great 
cause  has  already  marked  her  as  one  of  the  most 
eminent  women  of  the  age. 


CHAPTEK  IX. 

RAILROAD    MEN. 

Forty  years  of  experience  have  shown  me  that  no 
finer  men  are  to  be  found  in  the  country  than  those 
connected  with  the  railroads.  They  are  men  of  more 
than  average  ability,  more  than  average  courage  and 
strength.  It  is  only  natural  that  it  should  be  so. 
Large  salaries  in  the  higher  walks  of  the  profession, 
and  the  opportunity  for  advancement  held  out  even  to 
the  beginner,  attract  talent.  The  work  itself  has 
about  it  that  which  draws  those  who  have  in  them  any 
executive  ability  and  the  power  to  handle  men.  Rail- 
roads have  been  the  foster-mother  of  genuine  success, 
able  and  glad  to  reward  by  promotion  capabilities 
adequate  to  the  calls  of  the  hour. 

There  is  a  certain  independence  and  self-respect 
that  comes  with  having  the  care  of  other  lives. 
Knowing  that  amid  the  darkness  of  night,  the  storms 
of  winter,  and  the  war  of  the  elements,  hundreds  of 
human  beings  are  to  be  kept  in  safety,  carries  with  it 
a  peculiar  dignity  and  sense  of  responsibility  that  is 
felt  all  along  the  line,  from  the  man  at  the  switch,  the 

164 


THE  FARMER'S  ARGUMENT. 


Page  229 


166  FORTY  YEA.RS  ON  THE  RAIL. 

man  on  the  locomotive,  the  man  who  controls  the 
train,  up  through  all  the  various  ranks  of  superin- 
tendents and  officers,  even  to  the  highest. 

The  railroad  is  a  potent  ally  of  temperance.  No 
employee,  whether  of  the  staff,  or  of  the  operating 
departments,  is  long  retained  in  service  if  intemperate. 
A  writer  has  said,  "  The  locomotive  has  turned  our 
coachmen  into  heroes.  The  exchange  of  leather  rib- 
bons for  steel  has  made  out  of  the  beer-soaked  Tony 
Weller  a  brave  captain;  and  if  the  man  in  the  blue 
overalls  and  black  cap  is  not  as  jolly  and  communica- 
tive as  his  predecessor  in  corduroy  and  gloves,  he  is 
at  least  sober,  faithful  and  intelligent." 

Kailroading  is  rapidly  advancing  into  the  dignity 
of  a  profession,  requiring  a  knowledge  of  many 
branches  of  science,  training  of  a  high  order,  and 
careful  application  as  well  as  unselfish  devotion  to 
public  and  corporate  interests.  It  has  thus  not  only 
brought  into  being,  by  the  persistent  activity  of  traffic, 
an  army  of  enterprising,  pushing  ousiness  men  the 
world  would  never  otherwise  have  known,  but  it  has 
taught  order,  punctuality,  and  business  promptness  to 
all  classes  of  society,  and  is  rapidly  raising  the  world 
to  a  higher  plane. 

The  feeling  of  good  fellowship  that  exists  through- 
out the  different  circles  of  railroad  men  has  often  been 
noticed  by  outsiders.  This  is  largely  due  to  the  fact 


RAILROAD    MEN.  167 

that  the  higher  officers  have  come  up  from  the  rank 
and  file,  and  so  understand  the  feelings  and  hardships 
of  their  subordinates.  There  is  an  approachableness 
about  even  the  highest  that  takes  away  from  them  the 
hated  taskmaster  element  which  is  found  in  other 
employments.  All  "  the  boys  "  on  the  road  will  swear 
by  their  superintendents,  and  no  matter  what  their 
grievance  may  be,  they  feel  that  if  they  can  only  lay 
it  before  the  "  old  man "  it  will  be  properly  dealt 
with.  As  a  rule  the  latter  is  sincerely  and  heartily  in 
sympathy  with  his  subordinates,  and  in  my  experience 
I  have  met  with  many  superintendents  who  were  fairly 
worshiped  by  their  men.  Such  a  man  was  H.  C. 
Atkins,  or  "  Hub  "  Atkins,  as  he  was  generally  known. 
When  the  sad  news  of  his  death  was  flashed  along  the 
wires  there  was  not  a  dry  eye  on  the  road.  While  he 
was  on  the  Milwaukee  and  St.  Paul,  the  men,  from 
section  hands  to  conductor,  would  have  gone  to  the 
ends  of  the  earth  to  do  him  a  good  turn. 

Very  few  people  who  are  not  in  the  service  under- 
stand the  vast  amount  of  responsibility  and  hard  work 
that  falls  to  the  lot  of  the  operating  officials  of  a  great 
railroad.  People  have  become  so  accustomed  to  the 
smooth  work  clone  by  the  various  lines  of  the  country 
that  they  never  stop  to  think  how  it  is  done.  To 
realize  it  let  the  reader  follow  the  course  of  even  the 
poorest  emigrant  from  Europe  to  our  Pacific  slope. 


168          FORTY  YEARS  ON  THE  RAIL. 

From  the  heart  of  the  Alps,  perhaps,  he  starts  on  his 
way,  and,  from  the  time  he  takes  the  train  nearest  his 
home  to  the  hour  he  touches  the  soil  of  California, 
though  not  able  to  speak  any  language  but  his  own, 
ignorant  of  others'  customs,  without  friends  on  his  way, 
beset  at  nearly  every  step  by  sharpers,  the  traveler  is 
cared  for  and  his  numerous  boxes  and  bundles  pro- 
tected. Day  after  day,  after  leaving  Castle  Garden, 
he  goes  speeding  over  this  great  continent.  Engineers 
and  conductors  change.  He  passes  from  the  care  of  one 
corporation  to  another,  until  he  has  been  in  charge  of 
perhaps  half  a  dozen  companies.  He  eats  and  sleeps 
at  the  usual  intervals,  all  the  time  passing  over  broad 
plains,  huge  viaducts  and  iron  bridges,  going  through 
hills  and  mountains,  or  climbing  over  their  sides; 
bounding  by  canons  and  cataracts,  and  traversing 
great  stretches  of  uninhabited  and  desolate  country. 
It  all  seems  a  very  simple  matter  to  the  traveler,  and 
even  his  wealthy  brother,  who  has  been  luxuriating  in 
a  Pullman  car  during  those  many  days  of  travel,  does 
not  realize  what  it  all  means  to  the  brains  that  are 
back  of  this  wonderful  system  of  transportation.  How 
much  money  has  been  put  into  this  vast  line  of  rails ; 
how  much  lost  in  making/  experiments  before  the  feat 
was  accomplished;  how  many  millionaires  have  been 
ruined  in  the  enterprise;  how  many  hazardous  risks 
surveyors  and  contractors  have  run  to  provide  the 


RAILROAD   MEN.  169 

highway;  and  how  many  lives  of  common  laborers 
and  others  have  been  sacrificed  in  the  work  of  con- 
struction; how  complicated  is  the  system  that  is 
necessary  to  carry  on  affairs  when  an  army  of  em- 
ployees are  needed  for  its  successful  administration; 
how  wide  awake  are  engineers  and  firemen,  conductors 
and  brakemen  during  the  long  nights  on  the  journey 
—  of  all  this  the  traveler  does  not  think,  nor  does  he 
care. 

For  another  illustration  of  the  cares  of  railroad 
men  let  the  outsider  consider  the  questions  that  pre- 
sent themselves  to  ticket  agents.  Think  of  the  scores 
of  different  kinds  of  tickets  that  must  be  made  to 
meet  the  needs  of  as  many  kinds  of  passenger  traffic. 
"  The  wants  of  the  countless  suburban  towns  that  dot 
the  line  are  manifold,"  says  one  who  seems  to  know 
all  about  it;  "tickets  must  be  supplied  for  every 
emergency,  from  the  amiable  gentleman  who  occupies 
his  villa  and  buys  a  ticket  for  a  good  round  year, 
down  to  his  envious  neighbor  with  lean  and  hungry 
parse  who  wants  a  discount  out  of  all  proportion  to 
the  amount  he  pays.  The  excursionist,  and  the 
Sunday  school  picnic,  the  patriotic  citizen,  the  humble 
politician,  the  subdued  and  somber  dominie  with  large 
family  and  small  means,  the  jovial  circus  man,  the 
autocrat,  the  first-class  passenger,  the  real  estate  man, 
the  employee,  the  funeral  man,  the  demure  youth  of 


170          FORTY  YEARS  ON  THE  RAIL. 

fifteen  traveling  as  a  lad  of  ten,  the  man  who  is  con- 
tent to  occupy  the  second-class  carriage,  the  young 
miss  going  to  the  adjoining  town  to  school,  the 
ferocious  drover,  the  friendly  drummer,  the  man  who 
won't  buy  a  ticket,  the  man  who  wants  a  pass,  the 
mendicant,  the  impostor,  all  require  separate  pro- 
vision and  each  receives  the  exact  consideration  his  or 
her  particular  claim  demands." 

The  responsible  working  organization  of  each  of 
the  various  railroad  companies  of  the  nation  consists 
of  the  president,  vice-president,  treasurer  and  secre- 
tary, who  are  annually  elected  by  the  board  of  direc- 
tors. These  men  are  possessed  of  absolute  power  over 
the  destinies  of  the  company's  servants,  and  though 
the  power  is  rarely  if  ever  exercised,  their  wishes  are 
law.  They  are  generally  men  of  wisdom  and  justice, 
kindly  and  considerate  of  subordinates,  moved  by  no 
jealousies,  and  controlled  by  no  cliques,  being  of  such 
broad  views  as  to  make  these  feelings  almost  impossi- 
ble. Frequently  knowing  but  little  if  anything  of  the 
practical  operations  of  a  railroad,  rarely  seen  by  its 
army  of  operatives,  they  are  yet  thought  of  with  awe 
and  are  spoken  of  with  profound  respect,  while  many 
quaint  and  pleasant  things  concerning  them  are  found 
floating  around  among  the  subordinate  officers  and 
employees. 

The  peculiarities  of  many  of  our  railroad  presi- 


RAILROAD    MEN.  171 

dents  and  vice-presidents  have  become  legendary  upon 
the  roads  they  once  controlled,  and  in  the  lulls  of 
business,  even  the  obscurest  employee  delights  in 
recounting  the  legends  that  have  come  down  to  him  of 
the  great  officers  of  the  company  who  have  passed 
away.  Dozens  of  such  stories  are  in  existence  about 
Erastus  Corning,  who  was  well  known  for  his  eccen- 
tricity, and  who  had  queer  ways  of  dealing  with  his 
men. 

Mr.  Corning  was  a  lame  man  and  not  very  prepos- 
sessing in  his  looks.  He  stood  one  day  on  the  plat- 
form and  when  he  was  about  ready  to  step  into  the 
cars,  a  conductor  who  did  not  know  him  shouted, 

kk  Come,  hurry  up,  old  man;  don't  be  all  day  about 
it,  the  train  can't  wait." 

"Do  you  know  the  gentleman  you  ordered  on 
board?"  asked  a  passenger  of  the  conductor,  when 
the  latter  went  through  the  car  to  take  up  the  tickets. 

"  No,  and  I  don't  want  to  know  him." 

"  It  may  ba  worth  your  while  to  make  his 
acquaintance.  He  is  your  boss,  the  president  of  the 
road,  and  he'll  take  your  head  off." 

The  conductor  gave  a  low  whistle,  and  looked  as  if 
he  wo  aid  think  about  it.  He  put  a  bold  face  on  the 
matter,  sought  out  the  president  and  offered  an 
apology. 

"  Personally    I    care    nothing  about  it,"    said  Mr, 


172          FORTY  YEARS  ON  THE  RAIL. 

Corning.  "  If  you  had  been  so  rude  to  any  one  else,  I 
would  have  discharged  you  on  the  spot.  You  saw  I 
was  lame,  and  that  I  moved  with  'difficulty.  The  fact 
that  you  did  not  know  who  I  was  does  not  alter  the 
complexion  of  your  act.  I'll  keep  no  one  in  my 
employ  who  is  uncivil  to  travelers." 

Among  the  many  stories  afloat  about  Mr.  Corning, 
the  following  is  a  good  one. 

One  day  a  conductor  in  search  of  a  position  went 
to  Mr.  Corning  to  apply  for  one. 

"  Have  you  a  diamond  ring  ?"  asked  the  president 
of  the  Central. 

"  No,  sir,"  replied  the  conductor. 

"A  fast  horse?" 

"  No,  sir." 

"  A  house  and  lot,  or  money  in  the  bank?" 

"  No,  sir." 

"  Then  you  can't  have  a  place  on  my  road.  You're 
sure  to  want  all  these  things,  and  I  don't  want  you  to 
make  them  out  of  us,"  said  Mr.  Corning,  closing  the 
interview  abruptly. 

The  operating  officers  who  have  in  trust  the  prac- 
tical working  of  /a  road  consist  of  the  general 
manager,  chief  of  engineers,  solicitor,  general  agents, 
superintendents,  auditor  and  local  treasurer.  In  early 
days  the  chief  of  these  officers  was  known  as  superin- 
tendent, then  the  title  was  changed  to  general  superin- 


RAILROAD    MEN.  173 

tendent,  and  finally  the  present  name  was  adopted. 
As  can  be  readily  seen,  this  officer  must  understand 
thoroughly  every  department  and  every  branch  of  the 
service.  He  is  always  a  man  of  quick  intuitions,  is 
resolute  in  action,  self-possessed,  active  and  energetic. 
He  is  made  of  the  material  from  which  great  military 
leaders  are  formed.  These  same  characteristics  must 
also  distinguish  all  the  officers  who  are  the  aides-de- 
camp of  the  general  manager. 

The  operating  officials  of  our  great  trunk  lines 
have,  in  a  majority  of  cases,  come  from  the  lower 
departments  of  the  service,  having  been  advanced  as 
fast  as  their  merits  showed  them  worthy  of  promotion. 
Mention  has  several  times  been  made  in  these  pages 
of  such  progress.  A  striking  illustration  may  be 
found  in  the  life  of  A.  N.  Towne,  superintendent  of 
the  Central  Pacific  railroad.  He  was  a  Massachusetts 
boy,  and  singularly  enough,  on  the  day  of  his  birth 
there  arrived  in  New  York  the  first  locomotive  engine 
ever  used  in  the  United  States — the  "  Stourbridge 
Lion."  Mr.  Towne  began  his  railroad  experience  as  a 
brakeman  on  a  freight  train.  He  was  bright,  capable 
and  winning.  A  telegram  one  day  stopped  his  train, 
and  he  was  ordered  to  the  general  office.  He  was 
pointed  to  a  chair  and  told  to  take  a  seat  at  the  desk. 

"  I  know  nothing  about  clerking,"  said  the  young 
man. 


174  FORTY  YEARS  ON  THE  RAIL. 

"  You  can  do  as  you  are  told,  I  suppose,"  was  the 
response  from  his  superior  officer. 

He  did  as  he  was  bid  and  did  it  well.  Time  went 
on  and  the  Central  Pacific  was  in  search  of  a  superin- 
tendent. The  man  whose  career  was  thus  so  success- 
fully begun  was  recommended  for  the  place. 

The  liberal  offer  nearly  took  his  breath  away: 
"  Twelve  thousand  a  year  to  begin  with  ! "  Success 
attended  him  in  his  new  career,  as  elsewhere,  and 
to-day  he  has  few  if  any  equals  in  his  work. 

Of  his  methods,  Mr.  Towne  says:  "I  systematize 
my  work.  It  never  drives  me.  I  keep  ahead  of  it. 
Every  day's  duties  are  finished  before  I  leave  my 
office.  I  use  all  persons  alike,  whatever  may  be  their 
positions  on  the  road.  In  business  I  consider  every 
one  entitled  to  courteous  treatment.  When  I  deny  a 
favor  I  try  to  do  it  as  though  it  was  painful  to 
myself." 

Most  of  my  life  has  been  spent  on  trains,  and  nat- 
urally it  is  with  the  men  in  the  train  service  that  I 
have  had  most  to  do,  and  with  whom  I  am  best 
acquainted.  Of  all  these  the  engineer  is  least  to  be 
envied.  To  a  non-railroading  person  who  stops  to 
think  of  this  position,  the  responsibility  seems  almost 
unendurable.  Ever  on  the  alert,  never  relaxing  his 
watchfulness  while  on  the  run,  with  the  constant 
jolting  and  the  exposure  to  the  weather,  the  engineer 


KAILEOAD    MEN.  175 

passes  his  life  under  a  most  terrible  strain  on  his 
nervous  system.  Hundreds  of  times  have  I  pitied  the 
poor  fellows  when  I  have  watched  them  pull  out  of  a 
station  in  a  blinding  storm  and  heavy  fog,  or  a  terrific 
gale,  not  knowing  at  what  moment  a  broken  rail,  a 
weak  bridge,  or  a  misplaced  switch,  might  land  them 
in  eternity. 

Engineers  must  not  only  look  out  for  themselves, 
but  for  the  hundreds  who  are  back  of  them  in  the 
passenger  coaches,  and  they  never  can  be  certain  that 
the  switchmen,  on  whose  fidelity  they  are  forced  to 
depend,  have  done  their  duty,  until  the  crossings  or 
the  sidings  have  been  safely  passed.  Only  a  step  lies 
between  them  and  death,  and  it  is  the  step  of  one 
traveling  thirty  or  forty  miles  an  hour. 

These  men  have  not  only  physical  courage,  but  a 
moral  stamina  and  mental  quickness  beyond  the  aver- 
age man,  and  all  of  these  qualities  are  put  to  the  test 
from  the  moment  they  mount  the  foot-board  to  the 
time  they  run  their  engines  into  the  round-house. 
Brave  almost  to  recklessness,  an  engineer  never  deserts 
his  post  in  time  of  danger,  and  many  a  hero's  life  has 
been  sacrificed  that  the  train  might  be  saved.  He 
must  be  a  man  of  iron  will,  able  to  withstand  pressure 
and  outside  influence  in  the  hour  of  danger.  He  is 
often  thought  to  construe  instructions  of  caution  too 
rigidly  and  passengers  frequently  grumble  about  delay- 


176          FORTY  YEARS  ON  THE  RAIL. 

ing  trains,  as  it  seems  to  them,  needlessly.  But  the 
engineer  knows  best,  and  never  yields  to  what  he  feels 
are  unreasonable  demands,  when  his  better  judgment 
points  in  a  different  direction. 

One  of  the  most  interesting  features  of  the  great 
railway  exhibition  held  in  Chicago  in  1883  was  an 
ovation  to  the  veteran  locomotive  engineers  of  the 
country  who  were  present  in  large  numbers.  A  pro- 
cession was  formed  of  the  veterans,  including  Horace 
Allen,  the  pioneer  locomotive  builder,  and  they  all 
marched  to  the  annex  of  the  exposition  building  to  see 
the  "  John  Bull,"  the  oldest  locomotive  capable  of 
steaming.  A  circle  was  then  formed  with  the  engi- 
neers in  the  center,  and  while  the  band  played  "  Auld 
Lang  Syne,"  the  "John  Bull"  built  in  1831,  steamed 
up  the  central  track.  Three  cheers  were  given  for  the 
engine.  John  Sexton  was  then  introduced  as  the 
engineer  of  this  old  locomotive.  Mr.  Sexton  made  a 
speech  in  which  he  said  : 

"I  have  railroaded  for  forty  years;  have  tried  to  do 
my  duty  and  obeyed  orders.  The  'John  Bull 'was 
built  in  1831.  By  the  time  she  was  in  condition  for 
service,  on  the  Camden  and  Amboy  railroad,  there 
were  five  other  engines  built,  she  having  been  used  as 
a  pattern.  In  1833  she  was  placed  on  the  road  and 
was  in  use  up  to  1866.  I  firad  the  engine  in  1843  and 
1844,  and  in  1847  I  ran  her,  and  have  been  running 


RAILROAD    MEN.  177 

her  at  different  times  since.  I  have  run  engines  with 
from  four  to  ten  wheels,  and  in  all  my  service  have 
not  lost  four  weeks'  time." 

George  Hollingsworth  of  the  Rogers  Locomotive 
Works  was  then  called  on  for  a  speech  and  said  :  "I 
have  been  an  engineer  since  1836;  have  run  an  engine 
ever  since  that  time  and  have  never  had  an  accident 
on  the  road,  and  never  injured  a  person  in  all  my  life; 
not  even  a  dog,  that  I  know  of." 

Mr.  McAllister  of  the  Shaw  Locomotive  Works, 
then  spoke,  saying  he  had  once  run  the  "  John  Bull." 

George  Davidson,  the  old  engineer  of  the  "  Samp- 
son," being  called  on  for  a  speech,  said  he  was  born  in 
England,  had  helped  to  build  the  *'  Sampson,"  had 
come  to  this  country  with  her,  and  had  run  her  con- 
tinually until  August,  1882. 

Among  the  other  veterans  present  were  Mr.  Osborne 
of  the  Pennsylvania  Company,  who  began  railroading 
in  1852*  Mr.  Marsh  of  the  Rhode  Island  Locomotive 
Works;  Mr.  Pickerell  of  the  Pittsburg  Locomotive 
Works,  who  began  as  engineer  in  1848;  and  Mr. 
Pasho  of  the  Brooks  Locomotive  Works. 

Many  speeches  were  made,  eulogistic  and  historical, 
and  all  through  the  evening  the  engineers  were  made 
to  feel  themselves  the  heroes  of  the  occasion. 

From  the  ranks  of  baggagemen  and  brakemen  have 
come  some  of  the  most  successful  railroad  officials  of 
12 


178          FORTY  YEARS  ON  THE  RAIL. 

to-day.  These  places  are  important  in  themselves, 
and  not  less  so  because  they  are  stepping-stones  to 
the  higher  positions.  In  my  early  experience,  hand- 
ling baggage  was  not  so  hard  as  it  is  to-day.  Then 
people  had  fewer  worldly  possessions  and  so  could  not 
fill  the  enormous  trunks  that  are  now  the  bane  of  a  bag- 
gageman's life.  Commercial  travelers  with  their  heavy 
sample  trunks  did  not  exist  as  in  these  later  times, 
while  traveling  theatrical  and  opera  companies,  that 
now  are  so  numerous  and  which  always  go  heavily 
laden  with  costume  trunks,  were  then  few  and  far 
between. 

The  introduction  of  the  Westinghouse  air-brake 
has  greatly  decreased  the  duties  of  brakemen,  this 
contrivance  being  operated  as  one  brake  by  the  fire- 
man or  engineer.  But  the  brakeman's  duties  are 
numerous,  and  on  freight  trains  they  are  arduous  and 
dangerous,  on  account  of  the  coupling  which  is  still 
done  by  hand. 

Of  all  railroad  men  those  I  know  best  are  the  con- 
ductors, and  I  have  found  them  a  whole-souled,  brave 
set  of  fellows.  Generous  and  open-hearted  to  a  fault, 
their  best  nature  never  gets  soured  at  the  foibles  of 
the  race,  though  to  no  one  else  are  the  weaknesses  of 
humanity  shown  so  bluntly  and  obtrusively.  To  an 
outsider  their  work  seems  easy,  yet  from  the  moment 
a  conductor  takes  a  train  till  he  lands  it  in  safety  at 


EAILKOAD    MEN.  179 

its  journey's  end,  there  is  a  constant  and  by  no  means 
light  strain  on  his  mind.  His  time-table  must  be  kept 
constantly  in  view,  with  no  forgetting  of  a  single  one 
of  its  figures,  and  he  must  not  only  see  that  his  own 
train  is  exactly  on  schedule  time,  but  he  must  know 
just  where  every  train  coming  in  an  opposite  direction 
will  meet  and  pass  him.  All  matters,  all  differences 
are  referred  to  him,  and  with  quick  wits,  keen  eyes, 
and  above  all  a  cool  head,  he  must  be  prepared  to  in- 
stantly meet  every  emergency  that  may 'arise,  with  a 
practical  knowledge  to  help  him  with  expedients  when 
accidents  occur,  a  ready  judgment  and  nerve  to  act 
promptly  in  time  of  danger.  There  are  occasions 
when  a  little  mistake,  a  moment's  hesitation  might 
cost  a  score  of  lives,  and  no  one  realizes  that  fact  more 
than  the  conductor  himself.  He  must  see  that  no 
time  is  lost  at  stations,  must  have  an  eye  to  the  condi- 
tion of  the  track,  the  trestles,  bridges,  culverts,  and 
embankments ;  must  be  watchful  of  the  cleanliness  of 
each  car,  the  examination  of  couplings  and  bell-ropes ; 
must  be  on  the  alert  for  signals  from  his  engineer  and 
from  stations  on  his  route;  must  have  at  his  fingers' 
ends  all  the  intricate  system  of  rules  and  regulations 
issued  by  his  superiors. 

Not  only  must  a  conductor  be  a  good  judge  of 
human  nature,  but  he  must  have  tact  to  deal  with 
every  class,  being  quick  yet  courteous,  firm  and  yet 


180          FORTY  YEARS  ON  THE  RAIL. 

agreeable.      He    must  discriminate  between  the  one 
who   is   really   unfortunate    in   losing   his    ticket   and 
money  and  the  one  who  feigns  misfortune  so  as  to  get 
a  free  ride,  being  always  on  the  alert  for  the  thousand 
and  one  ways  in  which  passengers  try  to  defraud  him. 
yet  so  careful  of  appearances  that  he  does  not  seem  to 
be    suspicious.     He   must   keep  his   passengers    con- 
stantly in  mind,  so  as  to  see  that  they  get  out  at  their 
own  stations,  and  must  be  sure  to  take  up  all  tickets, 
often  going  through  a  long  train  thirty  or  more  times 
on  each  trip  to  make  sure  of  the  tickets  of  those  who 
get  on  at  way  stations.     He   must  get  off  at  every 
stopping  place,  no  matter  what  the  hour  of  night  or 
the  state  of  wind  and  weather,  to  see  passengers  off  and 
signal  the  train  to  proceed,  being  always  on  time  and 
never  in  undue  haste.     He  must  have  plenty  of  leisure 
to  give  courteous  replies  to  all  questions,  no  matter 
how   foolish    they    are,    and   must   keep    an    accurate 
account  and  give  an   accurate  report  of  tickets   and 
fares   collected.      In    fact,  he  is  the    captain  of    the 
train  and  the  requirements  of  his  position  are  legion. 
Unruly,  noisy,   unreasonable,   drunken  passengers 
are    a    source    of   constant    annoyance,    and    often    of 
danger.     I  have  known  of  many  cases  where  conduc- 
tors have  been  shot  at  by  such  passengers,  or  have 
been    attacked   in    other   ways.      Nearly    forty    years 
ago   I   was    baggagemaster    of   a   train    that    pulled 


RAILROAD    MEN.  181 

out  of  Boston  ill  charge  of  Elbridge  Wood,  con- 
ductor, and  David  Pasho,  engineer,  and  George 
Hunt,  fireman.  Three  roughs  got  on  board  at  the 
station,  and  when  Mr.  Wood  went  through  the  train 
they  refused  to  pay  fare.  The  men  laughed  in  his 
face  and  dared  him  to  try  to  put  them  off.  Mr.  Wood 
called  the  engineer,  fireman  and  myself  to  his  assist- 
ance, and  after  a  rough  and  tumble  fight  we  threw  the 
fellows  off  the  train.  In  the  struggle  half  a  dozen 
seats  were  wrenched  from  their  places  and  kicked  to 
pieces,  and  several  windows  were  broken.  One  of  the 
roughs  fastened  his  teeth  on  Pasho' s  middle  finger,  as 
they  fell  from  the  train  together,  and  would  not  let  go 
till  he  had  been  choked  black  in  the  face.  Even  to 
this  day  such  scenes  are  not  uncommon,  though  far 
less  frequent  than  when  railroads  were  new.  Pasho  is 
still  living  and  is  in  the  mammoth  locomotive  works 
of  H.  G.  Brooks,  at  Dunkirk,  New  York.  George 
Hunt  has  been  a  Chicago  policeman  for  thirty-two 
years  and  had  one  of  his  arms  shot  off  in  the  great 
beer  riot  of  1855. 

Considering  the  work  they  do  and  the  responsi- 
bility of  their  duties,  conductors  are  far  from  being 
well  paid.  Many  ofiice  men  with  no  responsibility  get 
twice  as  much  as  they  do.  Honesty  ought  to  be 
encouraged  by  liberal  pay.  Put  a  premium  on  hon- 
esty and  the  service  will  be  a  thousand  times  better 


182          FOKTY  YEAKS  ON  THE  KAIL. 

for  it.  By  paying  them  more  give  the  men  a  chance 
to  save  a  little  of  their  earnings.  Many  a  poor  fellow 
has  faithfully  worked  for  a  railroad  during  long  years, 
on  poor  pay,  only  to  be  dropped  from  the  roll  when 
old  or  disabled. 

Many  sad  instances  are  recorded  where  employees 
who  have  given  long  and  faithful  service  to  their 
roads,  have  been  left  in  old  age  to  the  charity  of  the 
world.  I  remember  a  conductor,  George  Richardson, 
one  of  nature's  noblemen,  who  lost  the  use  of  his  legs 
after  many  years  of  active  duty  with  his  company. 
The  poor  fellow  was  dropped  from  the  pay-roll,  and 
when  a  brother  conductor  broke  the  news  to  him 
Richardson  cried  like  a  child.  For  sixteen  years  he 
has  been  in  the  same  helpless  condition,  and  only  the 
kindness  of  friends  has  kept  him  from  starvation. 
From  his  company  he  received  nothing,  but  the  atten- 
tion and  care  of  others  have  given  him  less  cause  to 
grieve  over  "  man's  inhumanity  to  man." 

Conductors  often  turn  an  honest  penny  by  carrying 
on  a  little  commission  business  and  thus  accommoda- 
ting the  patrons  of  their  roads.  Those  who  run  through 
rural  districts  get  farmers'  products  and  sell  them  to 
city  buyers  at  a  good  profit.  In  the  early  days  of  my 
running  the  Waukegan  train,  I  made  quite  a  good 
deal  of  money  by  purchasing  goods  in  Chicago  for  my 
passengers  in  Waukegan.  I  took  all  this  trade  to 


RAILROAD    MEN.  183 

Potter  Palmer,  wlio  is  now  known  the  world  over  for 
his  magnificent  hotel  and  great  wealth,  but  who  in  the 
days  of  which  I  speak  had  just  started  in  the  dry 
goods  business,  having  founded  the  firm  which  to-day 
is  the  vast  house  of  Marshall  Field  &  Co.  Mr.  Palmer 
never  forgot  me  at  Christmas  time,  and  he  always 
gave  me  my  own  goods  at  cost. 

Conductors  have  many  good  times  among  them- 
selves, and  when  off  duty  are  fond  of  getting  together 
to  while  away  an  hour  or  so  in  social  converse.  When  I 
began  railroading  in  Chicago,  the  cigar  store  of  John 
C.  Partridge  was  a  favorite  rendezvous.  Often  a 
dozen  or  more  of  us  would  congregate  there  to  smoke 
or  tell  stories.  Not  only  was  the  proprietor  heartily 
liked  among  the  boys,  but  equally  as  popular  were  his 
two  clerks,  William  Best  and  Henry  Russell.  When 
Mr.  Partridge  died,  we  remained  faithful  to  the  old 
stand,  and  in  the  course  of  time,  we  saw  the  business 
grow  into  the  largest  in  the  entire  West.  The  rise  of 
these  two  young  clerks  strikingly  illustrates  the  spirit 
and  methods  of  Chicago.  They  began  life  when  I 
first  knew  them  on  salaries  of  five  dollars  a  week; 
they  are  now  among  the  richest  men  of  the  Garden 
City.  Mr.  Best  has  acquired  political  prominence. 
He  was  at  one  time  collector  of  the  South  Town  of 
Chicago,  and  has  declined  office  once  or  twice  because 
of  the  pressure  of  private  business.  He  is  now  South 


184  FORTY   YEARS    ON    THE   RAIL. 

Park  commissioner,  and  president  of  the  Douglas 
Club. 

Another  favorite  gathering  place  of  the  conductors 
of  long  ago  was  the  Tremont  house,  then  kept  by 
David  and  George  Gage.  Very  popular  among  us  all 
was  the  clerk,  Sam  Turner,  who  is  at  present  at  the 
Grand  Pacific  and  is  known  over  the  whole  country  for 
his  wonderful  memory.  John  B.  Drake  took  the  Tre- 
mont House  over  twenty  years  ago.  Mr.  Drake  is  now 
a  millionaire,  and  is  at  the  head  of  the  Grand  Pacific 
Hotel,  which  he  has  made  one  of  the  most  noted  hotels 
in  the  United  States. 

Chicago  has  become  so  vast  a  city  that  it  would  be 
impossible  to  speak  of  similar  meeting  places  of  the 
railroad  men  of  the  present.  After  all,  I  doubt 
whether  these  busier  days  ever  witnessed  the  jolly 
times  we  used  to  have  in  "  Auld  Lang  Syne." 

The  conductor  usually  draws  about  him  those  of 
his  passengers  who  are  at  all  sociably  inclined,  and 
thus  is  started  many  a  friendship  that  grows  closer 
with  each  passing  year.  In  the  old  days  this  was 
more  often  the  case  than  at  present.  People  were 
not  so  busy  then,  and  they  had  more  leisure  for  culti- 
vating old  friends  and  making  new  ones.  Then,  too, 
railroading  being  in  its  infancy,  few  men  were  regular 
travelers,  and  nearly  everybody  depended  on  the  con- 
ductors for  advice  and  instructions.  Many  would 


RAILROAD    MEN. 


185 


IIOXIE    AND    THE    TRAMP 

Page  231. 


make  it  a  point  to  wait 
for  their  particular  con- 
ductor's train,  and  in  a 
thousand  and  one  ways 
showed  their  kindly  feel- 
ings. 

My  own  experience  has 
been  so  full  of  pleasant 
associations  on  the  rail- 
road, and  so  many  favors 
received,  that  a  narration 

of  them  would  alone  fill  a  book,  but  I  shall  single  out 

a  few  as  examples  of  the  many. 


186          FORTY  YEAKS  ON  THE  KAIL. 

In  1849,  after  I  had  been  running  the  Beading 
train  on  the  Boston  and  Maine  road  for  two  years,  a 
group  of  my  passengers  called  ine  into  the  depot  at 
Boston,  and  before  I  had  time  to  think  what  was 
coming,  they  put  a  silver  watch  into  my  hand,  saying 
it  was  a  little  token  of  their  regard  for  me.  This  was 
my  first  present,  and  coming  without  the  slightest 
warning,  I  could  only  stammer  out  a  few  syllables  in 
lieu  of  thanks.  My  watch  was  a  valuable  one  for 
those  days,  and  I  carried  it  for  ten  years  when  it  was 
stolen  from  my  house  by  burglars.  In  a  very  short 
time  my  friends  heard  of  my  loss,  and  a  few  days 
later,  as  I  stepped  into  the  depot  in  Chicago,  Rev.  P. 
Judson  presented  me  with  an  elegant  gold  watch  as  a 
testimonial  of  regard  from  the  passengers  of  the 
Waukegan  train.  The  watch  was  valued  at  two  hun- 
dred and  twenty-five  dollars.  For  over  a  quarter  of 
a  century  that  time-piece  has  been  my  constant  com- 
panion, and  no  better  reminder  could  I  desire  of  the 
friends  and  scenes  of  a  generation  ago. 

Five  years  later,  in  1864,  W.  S.  Johnston,  of  Lake 
Forest,  who  had  been  a  daily  passenger  with  me  for 
years,  beckoned  me  into  the  -Wells  street  depot,  Chi- 
cago. At  one  end  of  the  room  stood  a  table  covered 
with  packages,  and  about  it  were  gathered  a  number 
of  friends.  Mr.  Johnston  then  presented  me,  in  be- 
half of  numerous  passengers,  a  beautiful  silver  service 


RAILROAD    MEN.  187 

of  nine  pieces.  The  service  was  on  exhibition  at  the 
office  of  the  "Evening  Journal"  in  Chicago,  for  several 
days,  hundreds  of  people  stopping  to  admire  it.  Two 
years  later  I  was  given  an  exquisite  set  of  pie  forks, 
of  English  make,  and  valued  at  seventy-five  dollars. 
Since  then  friends  have  from  time  to  time  given  me 
hosts  of  souvenirs,  until  I  have  curiosities  and  odds 
and  ends  enough  to  more  than  fill  a  cabinet. 

The  newsboys  on  the  trains  deserve  a  place  in  this 
chapter.  Forty  years  ago  they  were  not  known,  books 
and  papers  not  being  sold  on  the  road,  but  at  the  ter- 
minal stations.  No  fruits,  nuts,  or  candies  were  sold 
either,  and  passengers  had  to  carry  such  things  with 
them  or  do  without  any. 

The  newsboy  now  is  considered  a  necessity,  and 
while  he  is  often  abused  by  the  traveling  public  he 
has  his  mission.  In  my  day  I  have  met  many  faithful 
and  enterprising  boys  doing  such  work,  and  I  have 
seen  them  get  on  steadily  in  this  world's  affairs.  On 
my  train  twenty-five  years  ago  was  a  little  round-faced 
lad,  who  was  the  youngest  newsboy  I  ever  saw.  When 
the  road  was  let  to  a  news  agent,  we  all  had  a  good 
word  to  say  for  little  Johnny,  and  he  was  kept  in  the 
service.  For  a  long  time  he  ran  on  our  line,  and 
being  saving  and  prudent,  he  finally  got  money 
enough  to  start  a  news  stand  in  Waukegan,  and  now 
John  Ponsonby  is  well  known  as  doing  a  successful 
business  in  the  book  trade. 


188          FOKTY  YEARS  ON  THE  BAIL. 

The  newsboy  is  often  among  the  bravest  on  the 
train.  I  can  remember  when  my  train  was  snowed  in 
during  one  of  the  terrible  storms  of  which  I  have 
already  spoken,  Tom  Smith,  who  has  been  a  newsboy 
on  the  Chicago  and  North- Western  railway  for  over 
twenty  years,  volunteered  to  make  his  way  through 
the  blinding  storm  and  the  deep  drifts  to  the  nearest 
town.  He  knew  he  would  be  risking  his  life,  but  he 
was  willing  to  take  the  risk,  and  was  about  to  do  so 
when  help  came. 

Railroad  men  have  formed  not  only  a  new  class  or 
element  in  society,  but  records  of  their  lives  and 
characters  have  become  a  part  of  the  literature  of  the 
day.  Poets  and  novelists  have  .taken  them  up,  glad  of 
a  new  field  in  which  to  work,  and  they  have  found  in 
this  field  characters  rich  in  all  that  can  make  a  novel 
or  a  poem  of  interest  to  the  reader. 

Heroes  are  to  be  found  in  every  grade  of  the  ser- 
vice, and  the  engineer  who  gives  his  life  for  his  train, 
the  man  at  the  switch,  the  man  who  faces  the  robber 
in  the  baggage-car,  the  conductor  who  springs  from 
his  train  to  save  a  child  playing  on  an  adjoining  track 
whom  a  coming  locomotive  is  threatening  to  dash 
upon,  all  furnish  examples  of  true  heroism  as  bright 
and  worthy  of  imitation  as  are  to  be  found  in  the 
records  of  Greece  or  Eome.  "  The  Man  at  the  Switch  " 
is  a  poem  by  which  audiences  have  often  been  deeply 


RAILROAD    MEN.  189 

moved,  and  hundreds  of  similar  verses  have  been 
written. 

Among  the  higher  ranks  in  the  railroad  service  the 
energy,  perseverance,  and  success  of  officials  have  fur- 
nished subjects  for  moralists  and  writers  of  fiction. 
The  world  is  never  tired  of  reading  about  Stephenson's 
early  struggles,  and  not  a  book  on  noted  men  is  with- 
out an  account  of  some  one  who  has  come  up  from  a 
humble  position  on  the  railroad  to  the  ranks  of  great 
men. 

Dickens  gave  his  genius  to  railroad  subjects.  We 
all  know  how  he  speaks  of  the  railroad  in  the  "  Uncom- 
mercial Traveler."  In  "  Mugby  Junction"  he  takes 
up  many  phases  of  the  same  subject,  dealing  with  each 
in  his  humorous  style. 

Newspapers  every  day  abound  in  items  and  editor- 
ials about  this  great  power.  They  give  columns  to 
reports  of  the  meetings  of  railroad  men,  to  accounts  of 
their  travels,  sayings  and  prophecies,  and  fill  their 
funny  columns  with  stories  about  queer  happenings 
on  the  rail,  or  the  witty  sayings  of  railway  employees. 

The  market  reports  are  affected  by  a  word  or  a 
whisper  of  some  railroad  magnate,  while  bankers  and 
great  stock  exchanges  often  care  much  more  to  know 
the  course  of  a  railroad  king  through  the  country  than 
they  do  that  of  the  official  head  of  the  nation  or  the 
greatest  statesman  in  the  world.  When  such  a  king 


190          FORTY  YEARS  ON  THE  RAIL. 

looks  at  a  piece  of  land,  examines  a  bridge,  takes  a 
trip  up  a  river,  or  entertains  certain  guests  at  dinner, 
newspapers  tell  all  about  it  in  long  columns  of  matter 
with  big  headlines.  Magazines  give  their  best  efforts 
to  biographies  of  such  men,  and  employ  the  finest 
artistic  effects  in  producing  fine  pictures  of  their 
homes,  their  various  possessions  and  the  places  associ- 
ated with  their  early  history. 

It  is  no  wonder  that,  when  all  the  world  is  thus 
poring  over  such  literature,  Young  America  should 
have  seized  on  a  new  idea  of  greatness  and  an  ambition 
that  did  not  exist  when  I  was  a  boy.  When  the 
school  inspector  makes  his  rounds  nowadays  and  puts 
the  same  questions  to  the  small  boy  that  school  in- 
spectors did  long  ago,  he  may  do  so  with  the  following 
result : 

"  Johnny,  you  must  be  a  good  boy  and  study  hard, 
for  you  want  to  be  president  of  the  United  States 
some  day,  don't  you?" 

"No,  sir." 

"  What !     Not  want  to  be  like  Washington  ?  " 

"No,  sir." 

"  Well,  Johnny,  what  do  you  want  to  be?" 

"  A  railroad  president,  sir." 

Johnny  has  read  many  books  and  papers.  His 
mind  has  been  filled  with  accounts  of  magnificent 
homes,  country  residences,  yacht  trips  around  the 


RAILROAD    MEN.  191 

world,  and  private  cars  fit  for  an  emperor's  use.  He 
thinks  110  man  could  wish  to  be  greater  than  the  rail- 
road king  who  travels  in  a  palace,  and  whenever  he 
moves  every  subordinate  on  the  entire  line  of  thou- 
sands of  miles  must  obey  his  wish.  Johnny  knows 
that  the  head  of  the  nation  cannot  at  all  times  travel 
with  a  special  engine  and  a  special  time-table,  while 
with  all  other  trains  kept  out  of  the  way,  this  special 
car  travels  a  hundred  miles  in  a  hundred  minutes.  He 
had  read  that  a  railroad  president  can  and  does  do  all 
this.  Thus  the  literature  of  the  day  is  molding  the 
minds  of  the  rising  generation. 

More  stories  are  afloat  in  books  and  newspapers 
about  engineers  than  any  other  class  of  railroad  men. 
There  is  a  fascination  about  the  position  that  seizes 
upon  the  public  mind,  and  even  the  greatest  writers 
have  taken  it  up  and  have  woven  about  it  many  a 
story  that  strikes  deep  into  the  heart  because  of  its 
pathos,  its  wit,  or  the  inspiration  born  of  the  bravery 
and  self-sacrifice  it  portrays.  The  engineer  at  Mugby 
Junction  is  well  known.  This  is  how  the  great  English 
novelist  puts  his  thoughts  into  words: 

"  I  never  was  nervous  on  an  engine  but  once.  I 
never  think  of  my  own  life.  You  go  in  for  staking 
that  when  you  begin,  and  you  get  used  to  the  risk. 
I  never  think  of  the  passengers  either.  The  thoughts 
of  an  engine-driver  never  goes  behind  his  engine.  If 


192  FORTY  YEARS  ON  THE  RAIL. 

lie  keeps  his  engine  all  right,  the  coaches  behind  will 
be  all  right,  as  far  as  the  driver  is  concerned.  But 
once  I  did  think  of  the  passengers.  My  little  boy, 
Bill,  was  among  them  that  morning.  He  was  a  poor 
little  cripple  fellow  that  we  all  loved  more  nor  the 
others,  because  he  was  a  cripple,  and  so  quiet  and 
wise  like.  He  was  going  down  to  his  aunt  in  the 
country,  who  was  to  take  care  of  him  for  a  while.  We 
thought  the  country  air  would  do  him  good.  I  did 
think  there  were  lives  behind  me  that  morning;  at 
least,  I  thought  hard  of  one  little  life  that  was  in 
my  hands.  There  were  twenty  coaches  on;  my  little 
Bill  seemed  to  me  to  be  in  every  one  of  'em.  My 
hand  trembled  as  I  turned  on  the  steam.  I  felt  my 
heart  thumping  as  I  drew  close  to  the  pointsman's  box: 
as  we  neared  the  Junction  I  was  all  in  a  cold  sweat. 
At  the  end  of  the  first  fifty  miles  I  was  nearly  eleven 
minutes  behind  time.  'What's  the  matter  with  you 
this  morning  ? '  my  stoker  said.  '  Did  you  have  a 
drop  too  much  last  night?'  'Don't  speak  to  me, 
Fred,'  I  said,  '  till  we  get  to  Peterborough ;  and  keep 
a  sharp  look-out;  there's  a  good  fellow.'  I  never  was 
so  thankful  in  my  life  as  when  I  shut  off  steam  to 
enter  the  station  of  Peterborough.  Little  Bill's  aunt 
was  waiting  for  him,  and  I  saw  her  lift  him  out  of  the 
carriage.  I  called  out  to  her  to  bring  him  to  me,  and 
I  took  him  upon  the  engine  and  kissed  him  —  ah, 


RAILROAD    MEN.  193 

twenty  times  I  skould  think  —  making  him  such  a 
mess  with  grease  and  coal-dust  as  you  never  saw." 

Among  the  recent  contributions  to  literature  are 
some  autobiographical  sketches  by  a  locomotive  en- 
gineer, in  which  he  gives  an  account  of  some  queer  inci- 
dents that  have  come  under  his  observation.  He  says 
that  during  his  twenty-five  years  of  experience,  his  loco- 
motive has  been  overturned  six  times,  and  each  time 
he  had  dreamed  beforehand  of  the  accident,  seeing  in 
the  dream  the  exact  place,  the  direction  in  which  the 
train  was  going,  and  the  side  on  which  the  engine  was 
overturned.  At  various  times  his  dreams  have  been 
the  means  of  preventing  collisions,  of  saving  many 
lives  and  much  property.  He  thus  tells  of  one  of 
these  experiences: 

"  At  another  time,  I  was  in  charge  of  a  construc- 
tion train,  being  engineer,  conductor  and  gang-boss 
combined.  One  night  I  saw  in  a  dream  the  collision 
of  an  express  with  a  through  freight  train  at  the 
station  where  I  stopped.  The  engines  and  coaches 
were  badly  used  up,  and  many  killed  and  wounded. 
The  dream  was  very  vivid  and  distressed  me  all  the 
next  day.  The  second  morning  my  train  was  ready  to 
start,  but  the  through  freight,  which  was  late,  came 
along,  passing  the  station  seven  minutes  on  the  express 
time,  a  very  reckless  thing,  as  it  was  in  a  cut,  with  a 
sharp  curve,  through  which  the  express  always  came 
13 


194          FORTY  YEAKS  ON  THE  BAIL, 

at  full  speed,  the  whistle  of  which  I  at  that  moment 
heard.  It  recalled  my  dream  at  once.  Seizing  the 
red  flag,  I  signaled  the  freight  train,  and  ran  down 
the  curve  to  flag  the  express,  whose  engineer  reversed 
at  once,  and  the  engines  came  to  a  halt  within  ten  feet 
of  each  other.  As  it  was  not  my  duty  to  flag  other 
trains,  or  to  pay  any  attention  to  them,  had  it  not  been 
for  the  dream  and  its  effects  on  my  mind,  causing  me 
to  be  doubly  on  the  alert  at  that  time,  there  would 
have  been  a  serious  collision,  as  the  express  had  nine 
very  full  coaches.  Some  considered  it  a  lucky  coinci- 
dence, but  these  in  my  experience  have  been  too 
frequent,  and  the  dreams  too  real  for  me  to  consider 
them  as  such." 

It  would  be  impossible  to  enumerate  the  many 
directions  in  which  railroads  have  influenced  the 
literature  of  to-day,  and  in  how  many  ways  railroad 
men  have  gotten  into  print.  One  can  hardly  help 
thinking  that  if  so  much  has  been  done  in  the  past 
fifty  years,  the  next  century  will  witness  developments 
in  the  same  direction  that  will  astonish  the  world. 


CHAPTER  X. 


Since  the  first  quarter  of  the  century  benevolent 
and  mutual  benefit  societies  have  sprung  into  exist- 
ence by  the  hundreds  all  over  the  land,  and  especially 
among  all  classes  of  wage-earning  people.  No  organi- 
zations are  so  popular  with  the  masses,  no  others  boast 
of  such  membership  rolls,  and  to  no  others  do  different 
cities  open  wide  their  gates  with  the  same  hearty 
welcome  when  they  meet  in  their  annual  assemblies. 
These  societies,  with  different  names  and  forms  of 
government,  some  with  secret  rites  and  others  with 
nothing  of  the  kind,  being  based  only  on  business 
relations,  have  after  all  the  same  general  object  in 
view — to  aid  humanity  that  needs  aid.  They  have 
distributed  large  sums  of  money  for  the  relief  of  the 
sick,  the  burial  of  the  dead,  the  education  of  the 
orphan,  the  support  of  the  widow  and  the  aged,  and 
thus  have  lightened  the  burden  of  sorrow  of  many  a 
broken  heart,  and  gladdened  the  desolate  home  of  the 
mourner. 

"  The  great  good  accomplished,"  said  the  president 
195 


196  FORTY  YEARS  ON  THE  RAIL. 

of  one  of  the  railway  men's  associations  in  an  annual 
speech,  "who  dare  try  to  fathom  it?  Go  ask  the 
lonely  widows  throughout  our  land.  Go  ask  the  thou- 
sands of  orphan  children,  clinging  fondly  to  their 
widowed  mother,  and  the  dear  little  home  that  is 
theirs.  Go  ask  the  aged  father,  as  with  trembling 
limbs  and  faltering  voice  he  rehearses  to  you  the 
story  of  the  death  of  his  son.  Go  ask  the  loved 
mother,  perhaps  now  entirely  alone — all  gone — and 
the  sweet,  sad  expression  depicted  indelibly  upon  her 
features  will  tell  far  better  than  spoken  words,  the 
true  source  of  her  womanly  resignation.  Go  ask  true 
manhood,  or  true  womanhood  everywhere,  and  the 
answer  will  be  rolled  back  in  words  of  fire,  so  that  it 
may  be  stamped  indelibly  and  forever  on  your  minds." 

The  desire  to  provide  for  the  loved  ones  who  sur- 
vive him  is  strong  in  every  man,  but  few  men  are  able 
to  gather  a  competency  while  they  are  struggling  to 
keep  their  families  well  provided  for.  Then,  too,  acci- 
dent or  disease  may  carry  off  a  man  before  he  has  had 
a  chance  to  make  a  good  start  in  business.  All  these 
considerations  led  to' the  birth  of  these  societies  just 
mentioned,  and  keep  the  ranks  full  to-day. 

The  growth  of  railroad  interests  in  this  country 
was  so  rapid  that  before  people  were  aware  an  army  of 
men  were  in  its  service.  To-day  it  is  estimated  that 
in  the  United  States  there  are  upwards  of  seven  hun- 


197 

clred  thousand  railroad  men,  commanded  by  nearly  six 
thousand  general  and  division  officers.  The  railroad 
man  who  is  in  the  train  service  is  in  the  midst  of 
dangers  that  threaten  life  and  safety,  and  to  him  natu- 
rally come  thoughts  of  providing  for  those  near  and 
dear  to  him  in  case  he  is  summoned  suddenly  to  the 
Great  Unknown,  or  is  left  to  the  charity  of  friends 
when  disabled  from  any  cause.  Life  insurance  compa- 
nies in  early  days  offered  one  solution  of  the  problem, 
but  they  demanded  high  rates,  for  railroad  men  were 
placed  among  the  "extra  hazardous  risks."  Then 
associations  based  on  the  co-operative  and  protective 
plan,  formed  by  the  men  themselves,  sprang  into  being, 
and  have  proved  so  satisfactory  that  it  can  be  no 
longer  a  matter  of  doubt  that  they  are  best  adapted  to 
the  wants  of  wage-earning  people.  These  organiza- 
tions now  exist  in  great  numbers  among  railroad  men ; 
engineers,  switchmen,  station  agents,  conductors,  in 
fact,  all  grades  of  the  service  having  societies  of  their 
own  of  which  they  may  well  be  proud. 

Until  1880  no  effort  was  made  in  the  United  States 
by  a  railroad  corporation  to  establish  any  kind  of 
relief  association  for  its  employees.  In  this  respect 
our  nation  has  been  and  is  far  behind  Great  Britain 
and  other  European  nations,  where,  since  early  days, 
relief  funds,  pensions,  and  even  orphanages  have 
existed  for  the  benefit  of  railway  employees  and  their 


198  FORTY    YEARS    ON    THE    RAIL. 

families,  all  being  provided  by  the  corporations  them- 
selves. 

In  the  United  States  the  Baltimore  and  Ohio  rail- 
road was  the  first  to  take  steps  in  this  direction,  in  the 
year  just  named.  The  sum  of  one  hundred  thousand 
dollars,  which  was  afterward  increased  to  five  hundred 
thousand,  has  been  set  aside  by  that  company  as  the 
nucleus  of  a  fund  for  insurance  payments  in  case  of 
death,  allowance  during  disability,  and  pensions  for 
those  incapacitated  in  the  service  of  the  company,  the 
amounts  paid  being  based  on  the  wages  received.  A 
few  other  corporations  have  followed  the  example  set 
by  President  Garrett,  in  a  small  way,  but,  after  all,  the 
vast  aggregate  of  railway  employees  are  left  to  look 
out  for  themselves  in  this  country,  and  the  prospects 
are  they  will  do  so  for  many  a  long  year  to  come. 

The  press  has  begun  to  agitate  the  subject  some- 
what. Taking  up  the  cause  of  those  who  are  in  the 
service  of  railroad  corporations,  the  "Railway  Age" 
thus  writes : 

"  That  our  railroad  companies  must  in  time  make 
some  provision  for  competent  and  faithful  employees 
who  have  grown  old  or  become  disabled  in  their  service 

C5 

may  be  regarded  as  indisputable.  When  a  man  devotes 
himself  for  life  to  the  service  of  a  railway  corporation, 
he  surrenders  to  a  certain  extent  that  which,  especially 
in  this  country,  is  his  dearest  privilege,  namely,  the 


199 


right  to  go  into  business  for  himself  and  be  inde- 
pendent. The  more  competent  he  is,  the  greater  the 
sacrifice.  It  may  be  taken  for  granted  that  many 
departments  of  our  railway  service  can  be  conducted 
most  satisfactorily  by  men  who,  if  they  had  gone  into 
business  for  themselves,  would  have  been  at  least  fairly 
successful  and  attained  a  modest  competence  for  their 
old  age.  There  is  no  branch  of  the  service,  either  on 
the  road  or  in  the  office,  in  which  brains  are  not 
needed.  But  the  ambition  of  the  man  who  has  brains 
and  energy  is  to  be  independent,  to  plunge  into  the 
thick  of  the  unending  struggle  for  fortune  and  fame 
and  win  the  great  prizes  if  he  can.  It  is  just  such 
men  that  a  railway  system  needs  in  all  its  departments'. 
For  the  ablest  of  them  it  is  right  that  it  should  have 
high  rewards  in  the  positions  and  salaries  to  which 
they  may  attain.  But  it  is  possible  for  only  a  few, 
comparatively,  to  rise  like  a  Potter,  from  shoveling 
coal  into  the  furnace  of  a  locomotive;  like  a  Merrill, 
from  heading  a  section  gang;  like  a  Hughitt,  from  the 
operator's  table;  like  a  Towne,  from  running  a  freight 
train ;  like  scores  of  others  who  have  climbed  from  the 
lowest  to  the  highest  positions  in  railway  service. 
And  if  a  railway  company  says  to  these  '  give  to  the 
service  the  ability  which  you  have,  and,  though  you 
may  not  win  the  highest  prizes,  you  shall  be  remem- 
bered and  cared  for ' — is  that  more  than  a  fair  return 
for  the  service  that  such  men  would  render?" 


200          FORTY  YEARS  ON  THE  RAIL. 

In  1868  the  army  of  conductors  established  the 
"  Old  Reliable,"  an  insurance  organization,  the  first  of 
its  kind  among  conductors  to  take  and  make  a  name  for 
itself  in  this  country.  Its  object  was  to  "  provide  for 
the  widows  and  children,  heirs  or  representatives  of 
those  of  its  members  who  lose  their  lives  or  die  amid 
the  dangers  and  perils  of  their  hazardous  vocation." 

When  the  organization  originated  its  members  were 
few,  but  its  vast  opportunities  for  benefiting  our  ranks 
were  so  apparent  at  a  glance  that  it  spread  like  wild- 
fire. Being  a  member  from  the  first,  and  secretary  of 
the  Milwaukee  division  at  the  founding  of  the  associa- 
tion, I  have  an  interest  in  its  welfare  that  could  come 
to  me  in  no  other  way,  and  its  annual  meetings  are 
full  of  some  of  the  pleasantest  memories  of  my  life. 
We  have  reason  to  feel  proud  of  what  we  have  done, 
when  we  think  that  up  to  October,  1886,  one  million, 
ninety-three  thousand,  two  hundred  and  forty  dollars 
were  paid  out  to  beneficiaries,  or  an  average  of  over 
two  thousand  dollars  to  each. 

Who  can  estimate  the  good  this  money  has    done  ? 

Our  first  president  was  James  Marshall,  who 
served  five  years,  when  he  was  succeeded  by  J.  W. 
Seymore  for  three  years.  The  presidents  since  have 
been  M.  B.  Waters,  Samuel  Titus,  A.  C.  Sinclair, 
W.  S.  Sears,  O.  A.  Brigham,  E.  P.  Brown,  George  L. 
Harrison,  Ward  Nichols,  Edwin  Morrell,  F.  Champlin, 
and  George  F.  Hanford. 


201 


Loyalty  to  "  Old  Eeliable "  has  always  been  a 
marked  characteristic  of  its  members,  and  few  organi- 
zations can  show  more  enthusiastic  workers.  There 
are  many  who  rarely  miss  attending  every  convention, 
and  whom  only  the  stern  calls  of  duty  elsewhere  can 
keep  away.  Samuel  Titus,  one  of  the  oldest  conduc- 
tors on  the  New  York  Central  road,  and  who  was 
elected  president  of  "Old  Eeliable"  at  our  Atlanta 
meeting  in  1877,  has  attended  every  convention  since 
the  organization.  George  L.  Harrison,  so  well  known 
for  his  unceasing  work  in  the  cause,  and  who  was 
elected  president  at  Milwaukee  in  1882,  has  been  at 
eighteen  consecutive  annual  meetings,  or  every  one 
except  the  first. 

Our  conventions  have  been  held  in  some  of  the 
most  important  cities  of  the  country,  from  the  Atlantic 
seaboard  to  the  Eocky  Mountains.  We  have  held 
them  as  far  south  as  Atlanta  and  New  Orleans,  as  far 
north  as  Montreal ;  from  Boston  on  the  east  to  Denver 
on  the  west.  The  meeting  of  this  year,  1887,  will  be 
held  at  Portland,  Maine,  and  promises  to  be  second  to 
none  in  attendance  and  enthusiasm. 

It  would  be  impossible  for  me  to  give  an  account 
of  all  the  good  times  that  we  enjoyed  when  we  assem- 
bled each  year,  but  I  cannot  refrain  from  mentioning 
a  few  meetings  of  the  members  of  "  Old  Eeliable " 
at  which  I  enjoyed  myself  particularly,  and  around 


202  FOETY  YEARS  ON  THE  BAIL. 

which  cluster  memories  for  us  all  that  are  of  peculiar 
interest. 

Our  fourth  convention  was  held  at  Chicago,  in 
1871,  on  the  Wednesday,  Thursday,  and  Friday 
before  the  great  fire,  which  gives  to  it  something  of 
historical  interest. 

We  "Chicago  boys"  had  been  very  anxious  to 
have  the  conductor's  convention  gather  in  our  won- 
derful city,  for  we  felt  proud  of  it  and  wanted  to  show 
off  what  we  had  been  boasting  about  so  many  years. 
We  then  had  a  population  of  about  three  hundred  and 
thirty-five  thousand.  The  Garden  City  had,  in  the 
ten  previous  years,  been  literally  raised  by  jack  screws, 
eight  feet  above  its  old  grade,  sand  and  mud  being 
taken  from  the  river  and  harbor  to  fill  in  the  space. 
Huge  warehouses  and  stores  had  been  thus  lifted  up 
and  now  rested  on  substantial  masonry  and  brick  work 
built  up  from  below.  We  opened  the  eyes  of  our 
visitors  by  showing  them  these  buildings,  and  we  felt 
proud  to  tell  them  that  George  M.  Pullman  had  taken 
a  prominent  part  in  the  work,  and  was  the  first  to 
show  how  a  whole  block  of  brick  or  stone  edifices, 
with  all  their  contents,  could  be  lifted  up  without 
even  disturbing  the  transaction  of  business  inside. 

We  had  also  hundreds  of  new  and  elegant  build- 
ings. Our  Chamber  of  Commerce  had  cost  a  quarter 
of  a  million  of  dollars ;  our  Crosby  Opera  House  had 


203 


cost  upwards  of  four  hundred  thousand  dollars,  and 
our  theaters  were  among  the  finest  in  the  country. 
We  pointed  to  our  many  handsome  stone  churches, 
costing  from  forty  thousand  to  ninety  thousand  dollars 
each,  and  to  our  numerous  fine  school  buildings.  Our 
guests  were  quartered  at  the  Palmer  House,  the  Tre- 
mont,  the  new  Sherman,  the  Briggs,  and  a  dozen 
other  hotels,  as  fine  as  any  in  the  land.  We  showed 
them  our  Lincoln,  Central,  and  Union  parks,  and 
explained  to  them  the  boulevard  and  park  system 
which  is  to-day  the  admiration  of  the  nation,  and 
which  even  then  showed  many  fine  features. 

Our  tunnels  under  the  river,  and  our  water  works, 
including  the  tunnel  under  the  lake,  the  crib,  the 
water-tower,  and  the  four  pumping  engines  with  a 
daily  capacity  of  over  seventy  million  gallons,  all 
excited  special  interest. 

Among  the  railroad  features  of  the  city  we  had 
much  to  boast  of,  for  Chicago  was  even  then  a 
great  railroad  center,  her  lines  running  in  every 
direction  for  thousands  of  miles.  It  was  estimated 
that  over  these  roads  a  total  of  not  less  than  ninety-six 
passenger  trains  and  one  hundred  and  seventeen 
freight  trains  moved  each  way,  making  a  total  of  four 
hundred  and  twenty-six  both  ways,  or  an  average  of 
three  in  every  ten  minutes  through  the  whole  twenty- 
four  hours  of  each  day. 


204          FORTY  YEARS  ON  THE  RAIL. 

Among  the  many  pleasant  circumstances  that  made 
our  reunion  of  that  year  so  enjoyable,  may  be  men- 
tioned the  renewal  of  acquaintances  formed  many 
years  before.  I  have  already  spoken  of  the  fact 
that  when  Chicago  began  to  attract  the  attention 
of  the  country  as  a  railroad  center,  even  so  far  back  as 
the  fifties,  scores  of  railroad  men  from  the  East  were 
attracted  here,  and  the  migration  had  kept  up  every 
year  since.  In  consequence,  the  conductors  found  the 
playmates  and  school  friends  of  their  youth  on  all 
sides,  being  in  the  employment  of  different  roads  in 
various  capacities,  both  in  the  train  service  and  in 
the  offices.  Many  were  the  hours  they  spent  with 
these  old  friends  in  talking  over  days  gone  by,  and  in 
comparing  their  present  lots,  for  fortune  had  not  dealt 
with  any  two  alike,  smiling  on  some  and  having  only 
frowns  for  others. 

We  kept  our  guests  busy  during  the  three  days 
they  were  with  us,  visiting  different  places  and  admir- 
ing the  great  features  of  our  city.  Little  did  we  think 
that  most  of  us  were  looking  at  Old  Chicago  for  the 
last  time,  and  that  in  forty-eight  hours  from  our 
adjournment  only  blackened,  smouldering  ruins  would 
exist  in  the  place  of  all  of  which  we  were  boasting. 
On  Thursday  night  we  held  our  annual  banquet  at 
the  Briggs  House,  then  kept  by  George  French.  On 
Friday  we  went  to  Milwaukee  on  a  special  train  of 


OLD    RELIABLE. 


205 


Pullman  cars  furnished  by  the  Chicago  and  North- 
Western  railway,  of  which  John  C.  Gault  was  then 
superintendent.  William  Knight  had  charge  of  our 
train.  Landlord  Cottrill  served  an  elaborate  banquet 
for  us  at  the  Plankington  House,  and  as  usual  the 
George  family  was  called  on  for  a  few  songs.  We 


THE  VESTIBULE  TRAIN.— Page  243. 

started  back  to  Chicago  at  four  o'clock  on  Friday 
afternoon,  and  dispersed  on  Saturday  in  time  for  most 
of  the  guests  to  escape  the  great  fire  that  broke  out 
that  very  night. 

Many  of  the  conductors  staid  in  the  city  to  spend 
Sunday,  and  most  of  these  lost  all  their  baggage. 
Many  met  with  thrilling  experiences  in  the  great  con- 
flagration, being  at  hotels  in  the  very  center  of  the 
burned  district.  Of  that  season  of  terror  I  shall  not 


206          FORTY  YEARS  ON  THE  RAIL. 

stop  to  speak ;  its  history  has  often  been  told,  and  needs 
no  repetition  here.  I  shall  only  quote  the  verses  of 
Bret  Harte,  which  seem  to  tell  the  story  of  Chicago's 
fall  in  words  of  striking  imagery. 

' '  Blackened  and  bleeding,  helpless,  panting,  prone 
On  the  charred  fragments  of  her  shattered  throne 
Lies  she  who  stood  but  yesterday  alone. 

"  Queen  of  the  West!  by  some  enchanter  taught 
To  lift  the  glory  of  Aladdin's  court, 
Then  lost  the  spell  that  all  that  wonder  wrought. 

"  Like  her  own  prairies  by  some  chance  seed  sown, 
Like  her  own  prairies  in  one  brief  day  grown, 
Like  her  own  prairies  in  one  tierce  night  mown." 

It  was  well  for  Chicago  that  she  had  become  so  great 
a  railroad  center,  for  in  her  hour  of  need  her  tracks 
stood  by  her  in  noble  service.  If  ever  philanthropy 
had  a  faithful  handmaid  she  found  one  then  in  the 
locomotive.  The  suffering  and  needy  were  carried  to 
places  of  safety  by  different  railroads  free  of  charge, 
while  provisions,  medical  and  other  supplies  were 
literally  poured  in  from  all  quarters  of  the  globe  on 
these  roads.  That  Chicago  bears  the  title  to-day  of 
the  "  Phoenix  City "  and  occupies  the  proud  position 
she  does  among  the  cities  of  the  world  is  due  more  to 
her  railroads  and  her  railroad  men  than  to  any  other 
single  agency. 

During  the  second  convention  of  "  Old  Eeli- 
able,"  held  at  Columbus,  Ohio,  in  1869,  we  accepted 


207 


an  invitation  to  take  a  run  over  to  Louisville,  Ken- 
tucky, where  we  were  royally  entertained  at  the  Gait 
House  by  the  conductors  running  into  that  city,  who 
tendered  us  a  fine  banquet.  So  pleasant  were  the 
memories  of  the  hospitality  of  the  fair  Kentucky  me- 
tropolis, that  we  all  were  unanimous  in  desiring  to 
hold  our  convention  there  in  1872.  The  latter  was  a 
memorable  occasion.  Our  party  from  Chicago  made 
the  run  in  a  special  train  in  charge  of  Conductor 
George  Hewitt,  over  the  Illinois  Central  road.  My 
wife  and  two  daughters,  all  accomplished  singers, 
accompanied  me,  and  our  singing  was  often  alluded  to 
by  our  fellow  passengers  in  after  years  as  one  of  the 
most  pleasant  episodes  in  the  memorable  jaunt.  Our 
voices  frequently  aroused  the  echoes  in  the  Gait 
House  during  our  stay.  One  day,  while  we  were  get- 
ting ready  to  start  on  an  excursion  to  Cave  Hill  Ceme- 
tery, we  were  singing  in  the  parlors  to  entertain  a 
party  of  friends  who  had  gathered  there,  when  Mr. 
Johnson,  the  proprietor,  came  in  to  listen  to  us  for  a 
few  moments.  After  we  had  sung  two  or  three  selections 
our  host  said,  "  I  have  a  surprise  for  you."  In  a  few 
moments  the  folding  doors  of  the  parlor  were  rolled 
back,  and  in  the  adjoining  room  was  spread  an  elegant 
lunch. 

Mr.  Johnson  then  made  a  few  remarks,  in  which  he 
said  he  would  be  proud  to  eDtertain  the  year  around 


208  FORTY    YEAliS    ON    THE    KAIL. 

such  a  company  as  the  conductors  and  their  friends, 
and  bade  us  welcome  to  the  feast  he  had  prepared. 
After  a  speech  of  thanks  by  Mr.  Seymore,  of  the  Illi- 
nois Central,  we  proceeded  to  partake  of  the  collation, 
which  was  in  every  respect  worthy  of  the  famous  Gait 
House.  -That  night  we  wound  up  our  session  with  a 
reception  and  ball  at  the  Louisville  Hotel,  when  my 
family  and  I  entertained  the  guests  with  many  of  our 
songs,  acceding  to  loud  and  frequent  calls  for  such 
music. 

To  tell  of  the  good  times  we  had  at  all  of  our  con- 
ventions would  alone  fill  a  book.  But  I  cannot  refrain 
from  mentioning  another  reunion,  held  at  Denver,  in 
October,  1886.  I  took  out  six  Pullman  coaches,  filled 
to  overflowing  with  a  genial  company  of  conductors 
hailing  from  all  parts  of  the  country.  We  left  the 
North-Western  depot  at  Chicago  on  October  4th,  in  a 
jolly  mood,  and  before  we  had  been  on  the  road  more 
than  an  hour  or  two  I  had  made  up  a  quartette  whose 
singing  was  a  pleasant  feature  of  the  entire  trip. 

The  company  had  supplied  every  guest  with  a 
bouquet,  and  had  taken  pains  to  see  that  our  train  was 
equipped  with  everything  that  could  in  any  way  con- 
tribute to  the  comfort  and  pleasure  of  its  guests. 
Arriving  at  Denver,  the  conductors  were  soon  quar- 
tered at  the  Windsor,  the  St.  James,  and  the  Albany, 
all  good  hotels.  We  had  our  usual  conductors'  ball, 


209 


and  just  before  the  close  of  the  convention  our  quar- 
tette was  loudly  called  on  for  songs.  We  responded 
and  were  encored  repeatedly. 

Our  sojourn  at  Denver  was  made  memorable  by 
frequent  excursions  to  various  points.  We  visited  the 
mint,  the  smelting  works  and  other  places  of  note  at 
Denver;  we  went  to  Georgetown,  ten  thousand  feet 
above  the  level  of  the  sea;  to  Leadville,  the  famous 
mining  town,  two  thousand  feet  nearer  the  clouds  than 
Georgetown;  to  Manitou  and  Colorado  Springs,  and 
every  place  of  interest  within  a  radius  of  a  hundred 
miles  from  the  capital  city. 

To  attempt  to  give  even  a  brief  description  of  the 
wonders  of  Colorado  scenery  would  be  impossible 
here.  Perhaps  our  most  enjoyable  trip  during  this 
convention  was  to  the  Garden  of  the  Gods,  at  Manitou. 
Here  majestic  rocks  are  piled  in  mountain  masses 
almost  as  far  as  the  eye  can  reach,  and  stretched  over 
acre  upon  acre  are  gray  and  red  heaps  of  limestone 
grouped  in  picturesque  and  majestic  confusion.  Gro- 
tesque shapes,  huge  caricatures  of  animals  in  all 
imaginable  positions,  castle  walls  pierced  by  windows, 
slender  spires,  leaning  towers,  mammoth  gateways, 
and  hundreds  of  fantastic  shapes  no  pen  can  describe, 
form  a  picture  which,  once  seen,  will  never  be  forgot- 
ten. This  famous  place  is  truly  regarded  as  among 
the  wonders  of  the  world. 
14 


210          FORTY  YEARS  ON  THE  RAIL. 

Our  trip  to  Georgetown  showed  us  a  curious  and 
interesting  specimen  of  difficult  railroad  engineering, 
and  this  was  the  famous  loop.  The  road  slants  its 
way  up  the  mountain  side,  and  actually  crosses  itself, 
just  about  Georgetown.  One  section  of  our  train 
stopped  on  the  upper  grade,  while  the  other  section 
passed  beneath  the  first,  fifty  feet  lower,  the  trains 
going  in  opposite  directions,  though  bound  for  the 
same  place.  An  enterprising  photographer  took  pic- 
tures of  our  cars  at  this  point.  The  loop  is  a  mar- 
velous exhibition  of  the  triumph  of  engineering  skill. 
In  spite  of  the  apparently  insurmountable  impediments 
thrown  up  by  stern  old  nature,  the  locomotive  has 
pressed  its  way  in  triumph. 


CHAPTEE  XI. 

HUMAN    NATURE    ON    THE    RAIL. 

If  the  poat  who  wrote  "The  proper  study  of  man- 
kind is  man,"  had  been  a  conductor  he  might  have 
indulged  in  that  study  to  his  heart's  content.  Per- 
haps no  other  place  furnishes  a  better  opportunity 
than  the  train  does  for  the  study  of  hujnan  nature. 
No  one  has  a  better  chance  to  learn  the  peculiarities 
of  mankind  than  the  conductor,  going  backward  and 
forward  as  he  does  through  the  train  and  passing  his 
days  thus  from  one  year's  end  to  the  other.  The  mask 
that  is  worn  so  successfully  in  church  and  society  is 
dropped  before  him  without  reserve. 

All  kinds  of  people  are  to  be  found  traveling  on 
the  rail.  There  is  the  man  who  acts  as  if  the  rest  of 
the  world,  and  especially  all  railroad  officials,  were  in 
league  against  him. 

4 'This  is  a  free  country,  and  I'm  in  for  all  the  law 
allows,"  he  says. 

So  he  puts  his  valise  in  the  seat  beside  him  to  pre- 
vent anyone  from  sitting  next  to  him,  opens  the  window 
without  regard  to  the  feeble  woman  back  of  him,  or 

211 


212          FORTY  YEARS  ON  THE  RAIL. 

the  sick  child  across  the  aisle,  and  then  spits  tobacco 
juice  all  over  the  floor.  This  is  the  man  who  always 
rides  on  a  pass  when  he  can  get  it  by  hook  or  crook, 
or  resorts  to  scalpers  for  tickets  when  passes  give  out, 
or  is  determined  to  use  a  limited  ticket  long  after  the 
time  of  limitation  has  expired.  It  is  against  his  prin- 
ciples to  pay  a  good,  honest  fare. 

"  There's  nothing  like  cheek  in  this  world,"  he 
remarks,  when  giving  advice  to  a  traveler  not  so  en- 
dowed with  this  article  as  himself.  "  There  is  nothing 
like  cheek,  and  if  a  thing's  to  be  got  by  it,  why  I'm 
there  every  time.  When  I  put  on  my  coat  in  the 
morning  I  put  on  my  gall  with  it,  and  I  tell  you  I 
never  get  left." 

Once  in  a  while  the  selfish  passenger  gets  a  fitting 
rebuke,  as  the  following  story  shows: 

On  a  suburban  train  going  out  of  Boston  a  well- 
known  vocalist  appropriated  to  his  sole  use  and  com- 
fort two  seats.  While  this  luxurious  wayfarer  was 
occupying  so  much  room  there  entered  the  car  a  man 
considerably  under  the  influence  of  liquor.  The  ine- 
briate could  find  no  seat  except  that  which  the  first  - 
mentioned  passenger  had  appropriated,  and  going  up 
to  the  latter  the  bibulous  traveler  said: 

;'Move  o-over,  p-please  (hie)  ;  I  want  a  seat." 

The  other  glanced  up  with  a  look  of  intense  scorn, 
but  did  not  deign  to  take  further  notice  just  then  of 


HUMAN   NATURE    ON   THE   KAIL.  213 

his  interlocutor.     The  intoxicated  individual  returned 
again  to  the  charge  with: 

"  Can't  you  move  o-over  (hie)  and  give  a  fellow  a 
seat?" 

"No,  I  can't  and  won't;  you  are  drunk,"  was  the 
curt  response. 

"Well,"  stammered  the  other,  "I  know  Tm  drunk 
(hie),  but  I'll  get  over  that;  you're  a  hog,  and  will 
never  get  over  it." 

Speaking  of  car-windows  and  the  perfect  disregard 
shown  by  most  people  in  opening  them,  reminds  me  of 
a  rebuke  once  given  a  couple  of  selfish  travelers. 

"  Conductor,"  called  out  a  woman  who  could 
scarcely  be  called  a  lady  when  her  voice  was  heard, 
"  come  and  open  this  window  or  I  shall  die! " 

The  window  being  opened  according  to  this  request, 
a  lady  sitting  near  exclaimed, 

'  Conductor,  come  and  shut  this  window,  or  I  shall 
die!" 

"  Conductor,"  shouted  an  annoyed  passenger  not  far 
off,  as  the  official  was  leaving,  "  conductor,  come  and 
open  this  window  and  kill  one  of  these  women;  then 
shut  it  and  kill  the  other! " 

On  every  train  there  is  the  timid  traveler.  He  is 
afraid  of  accidents,  and  anxiously  asks  who  is  the  engi- 
neer and  how  long  he  has  been  on  the  road.  He  is 
afraid  to  speak  to  any  one  lest  he  be  swindled  in  some 


214  FORTY  YEARS  ON  THE  RAIL. 

way,  and  neither  offers  nor  accepts  favors.  He  eyes 
his  neighbor  suspiciously,  keeps  his  coat  buttoned  up, 
will  not  look  at  his  watch  lest  it  get  stolen,  and  either 
reads  or  stares  out  of  the  window  so  as  to  avoid  being 
spoken  to. 

Ladies  are  usually  the  most  suspicious  travelers.  I 
remember  many  funny  incidents  that  illustrate  this 
trait.  One  night  while  I  was  on  watch  in  my  sleep- 
ing-car, running  from  Chicago  to  New  York,  a  big,  fat 
woman  jumped  excitedly  from  her  berth  and  began  to 
scream  at  the  top  of  her  voice,  "Oh  dear,  oh  dear,  I'm 
robbed,  I'm  robbed!" 

"What's  the  matter,  madam?"  I  cried,  running 
down  the  aisle. 

"Matter?"  she  shrieked,  beside  herself  with  fear. 
"What's  the  matter?  Matter  enough,  sir.  I've  been 
robbed.  I  had  six  thousand  dollars'  worth  of  diamonds 
under  my  pillow,  and  where  are  they  now?  They've 
been  stolen,  that's  where  they  are,  and  the  thief's  on 
this  train,  right  in  this  car,  and  you've  got  to  find 
him,  sir." 

"  Calm  yourself,  madam,"  I  said  to  her.  "  Calm 
yourself.  Don't  disturb  everybody  on  the  train.  We'll 
soon  find  your  diamonds  if  they're  still  in  the  car." 

First  we  carefully  searched  her  berth,  taking  it  to 
pieces  in  order  to  make  the  hunt  thorough.  While  we 
were  busy  at  our  work  I  heard  a  smothered  exclama- 
tion from  my  passenger. 


HUMAN   NATURE    ON    THE   BAIL.  215 

"  Oh,  dear,"  she  muttered,  "  I  shall  faint  away." 

"What's  the  matter  now?"  I  sternly  demanded. 
'k  Here  they  are,  sir,"  she  meekly  answered,  putting 
her  hand  in  the  bosom  of  her  dress  and  drawing  the 
diamonds  out.      "I  put  them  away  and  forgot  it." 

"  Get  into  bed  and  don't  let  me  hear  from  you 
again,"  was  all  I  could  say.  During  the  rest  of  the 
trip  she  was  the  meekest  woman  I  ever  saw. 

On  another  trip  a  Boston  lady  claimed  to  have  lost 
four  dollars,  which  she  was  sure  she  had  put  in  her 
purse  before  retiring.  "  Oh,  I  am  sure  I  put  it  there," 
she  said  to  me,  "  very  sure.  It's  all  the  money  I  had 
with  me,  too.  What  shall  I  do?  " 

Tears  were  brimming  in  her  eyes,  and  there  would 
have  been  a  flood  of  them  in  another  minute  but  for  a 
thought  that  struck  her. 

"  I  know  who  took  the  money,"  she  asserted,  with 
her  eyes  flashing  spitefully.  "  There's  the  man!  He 
took  it."  And  she  pointed  to  the  darkey  porter  who 
stood  near  by. 

"I  hardly  think  so,  madam,"  I  answered.  "He's 
been  with  me  a  long  time  and  I've  always  found  him 
strictly  honest." 

"He's  got  it,  I  know  he's  got  it,"  was  all  she 
would  say  in  reply. 

Colonel  Welsh,  then  our  general   superintendent, 
as  on  the  car,  and  I  told  him  of  the  lady's  charges 
against  the  porter. 


216          FORTY  YEARS  ,ON  THE  RAIL. 

We  decided  to  await  developments,  confident  that 
before  long  the  porter  would  be  exonerated  and  the 
money  found.  About  an  hour  later  the  lady  came  up 
to  me  looking  very  much  ashamed  of  herself. 

"I  beg  your  pardon,  conductor,"  she  stammered, 
her  cheeks  covered  with  blushes,  "  I  have  found  my 
money." 

She  had  put  it  in  the  sleeve  of  her  dress,  and  not 
in  her  pocket-book. 

The  inveterate  questioner  is  a  nuisance  to  the  con- 
ductor. He  begins  after  the  first  mile  by  asking  the 
time,  then  the  distance  from  point  to  point,  and  so 
questions  are  kept  up  until  the  name  of  nearly  every 
station  has  been  given  him,  the  time  has  been  told 
him  over  and  over  again,  and  the  contents  of  a  good- 
sized  gazetteer  or  guide-book  have  been  imparted  to 
him.  It  is  no  wonder  that  railroad  men  sometimes 
give  way  to  their  feelings  of  irritation,  for  the  provo- 
cation is  often  very  great.  Many  years  ago  a  conduc- 
tor had  the  following  experience: 

"  What's  the  next  station?  "  asked  a  passenger  of  a 
conductor  who  was  going  through  the  train  on  his 
first  round. 

"  Smithville." 

"  That's  what  I  thought,"  said  the  passenger. 

"What  is  the  next  station?"  again  interrogated 
the  man  as  the  conductor  macle  his  second  round, 


HUMAN   NATURE    ON   THE   KAIL.  217 

"Jonesville." 

"That's  what  I  thought,"  quickly  responded  the 
questioner. 

Time  and  again,  whenever  the  conductor  went 
through  the  train,  the  man  had  some  question  ready 
and  always  concluded  with,  "  That's  what  I  thought." 
Finally  the  railroad  man  could  endure  it  no  longer 
and  the  conversation  ended  thus: 

"How  far  is  it  to  Toledo?" 

"Twenty  miles." 

"  That's  what  I  thought." 

"Do  you  know  what  I  think?"  exclaimed  the  irate 
official.  "  I  think  you're  a  fool." 

"  That's  what  I  thought,"  said  the  passenger. 

The  last  remark  was  followed  by  general  merri- 
ment, in  which  the  passenger  joined  as  heartily  as  the 
rest  and  then  invited  the  conductor  to  take  a  bottle  of 
wine  with  him  at  the  terminus  of  the  road  on  the 
strength  of  the  joke. 

Some  people  seem  born  to  try  to  make  the  conduc- 
tor's life  a  burden  to  him.  Once  a  man  in  ordinary 
citizen's  clothes  boarded  a  train  and  quietly  took  a 
seat.  "When  he  was  asked  for  his  ticket  he  replied, 

"I  have  no  ticket." 

"  Then  you  must  pay  cash." 

"  I  won't  do  anything  of  the  kind,  and  you  can't 
make  me," 


218  FORTY  YEARS  ON  THE  RAIL. 

"  We'll  see  about  that,"  said  the  conductor,  pulling 
the  cord  to  stop  the  train. 

"So  you're  going  to  put  me  off,  are  you?"  said 
the  man.  "  You  can't  do  it.  Here's  my  pass." 

The  pass  was  properly  made  out,  and  though  vexed 
enough  to  say  something  far  from  pleasant,  the  con- 
ductor left  the  car  without  a  word. 

After  leaving  the  next  station  the  conductor  in  his 
round  came  on  a  new  passenger.  The  same  conver- 
sation took  place  as  before,  and  reached  the  same 
climax,  and  when  the  pass  was  produced  it  was  the 
very  one  offered  by  the  other  man.  The  explanation 
was  that  the  passenger  had  drawn  up  his  overcoat 
collar,  hunched  his  shoulders  out  of  position,  put  his 
hair  and  beard  in  disorder,  and  pulled  his  hat  down 
over  one  eye,  besides  changing  his  seat. 

Later  in  the  trip  the  conductor  saw,  in  the  end  seat 
by  the  stove,  a  new  passenger,  who  had  his  coat  off, 
wore  a  remarkable  looking  checked  shirt  and  a 
peculiar  hat.  As  before,  a  ticket  was  asked  for,  then 
cash,  and  finally  the  cord  was  pulled.  A  general 
laugh  arose  in  the  car  when  the  self-same  pass  was 
produced  and  several  people  identified  the  man  as  the 
owner. 

The  man  proved  to  be  a  veritable  Proteus,  for  he 
next  disguised  himself  as  a  sufferer  from  neuralgia 
and  rheumatism,  and  had  his  face  tied  up  and  wore  a 


HUMAN    NATURE    ON    THE    RAIL.  219 

huge  muffler  around  his  neck.  The  conductor  was 
again  deceived.  His  patience  was  all  gone  by  that 
time,  but  he  held  his  peace  and  resolved  not  to  be 
taken  in  again.  He  felt  sure  he  knew  his  man. 

At  the  next  station  a  passenger  got  on  board  whom 
the  official  recognized  at  once  as  the  practical  joker 
who  had  worried  him  all  day,  feeling  sure  the  man 
had  got  off  one  side  of  the  train  to  get  on  board  at  the 
other.  As  the  conductor  took  up  the  tickets  he  passed 
this  man,  giving  him  a  wink  and  a  broad  smile.  A 
little  further  on  the  man,  who  was  really  a  new  pas- 
senger, got  off,  and  as  he  left  the  car  he  said: 

"  I  don't  know  what  I've  done  to  ride  free,  but 
seeing  it's  all  the  same  to  you,  I  don't  care." 

The  conductor  considered  himself  the  worst  fooled 
man  in  America  that  day. 

I  remember  once  having  an  inveterate  talker  on 
my  train,  who  bored  the  passengers  and  then  tired 
me  out,  till  I  felt  it  my  duty  to  put  a  stop  to  his  talk 
in  order  to  get  some  peace  for  the  rest  of  us. 

"  Hold  on,  hold  on,  my  friend,"  I  interrupted  him 
about  the  time  he  had  got  well  under  way  with  a  full 
head  of  steam  on.  "  Excuse  me,  but  I  want  to  tell 
you  a  little  story." 

"  All  right,  Captain,"  he  assented,  putting  the 
brakes  on  his  tongue,  though  he  looked  as  if  he  felt 
very  sorry  to  stop  even  for  a  few  moments.  "  Let's 
hear  your  story." 


220          FORTY  YEARS  ON  THE  RAIL. 

"  A  neighbor  of  mine  has  a  parrot,"  I  commenced, 
"which  has  learned  to  say  almost  everything.  One 
day  my  neighbor  went  away  and  the  parrot  sat  on  the 
front  porch  calling  to  the  horses  and  cattle  that  were 
passing.  The  parrot  finally  called  out  to  a  big  bull- 
dog, who  turned  on  the  bird  and  tore  nearly  all  her 
feathers  off  before  she  could  escape.  When  my  neigh- 
bor came  home  he  said  to  polly,  '  Well,  you're  a 
pretty  looking  bird.  What's  the  matter  with  you?' 
'I  guess  I  talk  too  much,'  sadly  answered  the  parrot." 

My  passenger  looked  at  me  calmly  for  a  moment, 
and  then  walked  away.  The  rest  of  the  passengers 
and  I  had  a  peaceful  trip  after  this. 

Travelers  are  very  often  inconsiderate.  Of  opening 
windows,  and  occupying  seats  without  reference  to 
others,  I  have  already  spoken.  I  have  heard  ladies 
complain  about  each  other  in  the  way  of  monopolizing 
the  dressing-rooms  on  sleeping  cars.  The  lady  who 
rises  first  in  the  morning  often  takes  possession  of 
this  room  for  an  indefinite  time,  keeping  other  ladies 
and  many  children  with  incomplete  toilets  waiting  for 
breakfast.  I  once  heard  a  lady  say  that  a  fashionable 
dame  thus  kept  many  for  nearly  an  hour,  and  when 
she  emerged  from  the  dressing-room,  she  was 
resplendent  in  a  fine  silk  dress  and  accessories  to 
match,  having  laid  aside  a  traveling  dress  for  this  less 
suitable  attire.  Her  fine  clothes  did  not  win  forgive- 
ness from  her  fellow  passengers. 


HUMAN   NATURE   ON   THE   BAIL.  221 

Kace  prejudices  are  too  strong  to  be  overcome  even 
by  the  democratic  railway  trains  of  our  country,  and 
incidents  often  bring  this  out  in  a  strong  light  when 
colored  people  enter  a  car.  In  my  early  days  on  the 
road,  the  "  Jim  Crow  car,"  as  it  was  called,  was  used 
in  New  England  for  negroes  and  was  considered  good 
enough  for  them,  though  it  was  scarcely  better 
than  a  cattle  car  of  to-day.  This  miserable  convey- 
ance was  usually  painted  black,  probably  to  sug- 
gest its  use.  Out  West  the  negroes  fared  better, 
but  in  the  border  States,  on  the  Mason-Dixon  line 
especially,  many  a  serious  struggle  took  place  about 
the  admission  of  a  colored  person  to  the  privileges  of 
first-class  coaches,  even  when  he  was  traveling  on  a 
first-class  ticket.  The  aristocratic  southerner,  who 
had  no  idea  of  objecting  to  the  presence  of  a  negro 
valet  or  nurse  in  the  same  seat  with  himself,  or  wife, 
or  children,  would  not  tolerate  the  same  negro  in  the 
car  if  he  were  traveling  as  an  equal  on  a  ticket  he  had 
purchased  for  himself.  The  fifteenth  amendment  by 
no  means  wiped  out  these  feelings,  though  it  has 
given  a  solution  for  outward  actions  toward  the 
colored  race  which  saves  railway  officials  from  many 
of  the  unpleasant  situations  of  the  past. 

Nabobism  has  taken  a  very  strong  hold  even  in  this 
country.  Away  back  in  1835,  an  old  Bostonian 
groaned  over  the  fact  that  "  the  rich  and  the  poor,  the 


222          FORTY  YEARS  ON  THE  RAIL. 

educated  and  the  ignorant,  the  polite  and  the  vulgar, 
all  herd  together  in  this  modern  improvement  in 
traveling."  Although,  if  he  were  living  now,  he  would 
not  have  quite  so  much  to  complain  about,  still  first- 
class  cars,  drawing-room  and  sleeping  coaches  are  to 
be  had  by  all  who  can  pay  for  them,  and  this  by  no 
means  excludes  the  different  classes  complained  of  by 
the  old  resident  of  the  Hub. 

It  is  often  amusing  to  notice  the  way  some  people 
try  to  draw  a  line  between  themselves  and  their 
neighbors  even  in  a  palace  car.  There  are  many 
Americans  'who  have  affected  foreign  notions,  and 
after  even  a  short  stay  abroad  they  come  back  home 
filled  with  so  many  aristocratic  ideas  that  they  can 
find  nothing  in  their  own  country  good  enough  for 
them.  Such  people  would  be  glad  to  supplant  our 
present  democratic  coach  by  the  compartment  cars  of 
Europe.  This  they  can  never  accomplish,  but  they 
find  consolation  in  the  private  car. 

The  number  and  the  elegance  of  the  private  cars  of 
our  country  is  a  source  of  wonderment  to  foreigners 
who  visit  our  land.  Our  money  kings  and  railroad 
magnates  outrival  European  sovereigns  in  this  regard. 
Costly  woods,  velvets,  and  glass  are  used  in  the  manu- 
facture of  these  palaces  on  wheels,  while  art  treasures 
in  the  form  of  pictures,  vases,  china,  silver  and  crystal 
ornaments  decorate  their  walls  and  niches.  They 


HUMAN   NATURE    ON   THE   RAIL.  223 

contain  different  rooms,  and  are  equipped  with  every 
convenience  and  luxury  money  can  procure.  President 
Vanderbilt's  private  car  cost  over  twenty  thousand 
dollars,  and  contains  a  state-room,  card-room,  sitting 
and  dining-room,  observatory,  kitchen,  larder,  with 
fittings  of  the  utmost  elegance. 

Human  nature  displays  itself  in  a  thousand  dif- 
ferent and  often  unexpected  ways  on  a  railroad  train. 
Some  think,  "I'll  never  see  these  people  again;  I  don't 
care  what  I  do."  So  the  deacon,  who  is  so  pious  and 
exact  at  home,  takes  a  hand  at  cards  on  the  train  and 
joins  in  laughs  and  discussions  that  are  caused  by  very 
different  topics  from  those  he  approves  of  at  home; 
the  fair  lady  who  smiles  upon  her  five  hundred  and 
one  particular  friends  in  the  drawing-room,  in  the  rail- 
way-car is  disagreeable  to  her  neighbor,  exasperating 
to  the  conductor,  cross  and  overbearing  to  her  child ; 
the  pretty  girl  forgets  her  simper  and  her  company 
manners;  the  youth  assumes  a  swagger  and  an  air  of 
arrogance  to  give  the  impression  that  he  is  of  age;  the 
man  who  passes  for  the  polished  gentleman  at  home 
proves  himself  an  intolerant  boor  on  the  rail ;  he  who 
is  wont  to  serve  his  superiors  in  his  usual  circle 
desires  to  rule  here,  and  the  man  who  is  smarting 
under  some  injury  or  injustice  received  in  business  or 
social  circles  takes  his  revenge  on  his  fellow  passen- 
gers or  the  railroad  employees. 


224          FORTY  YEARS  ON  THE  RAIL. 

I  have  often  thought  that  trains  would  be  good 
places  for  missionaries.  I  am  sure  a  person  who  longs 
to  be  a  public  benefactor  does  not  need  to  go  to  foreign 
lands  to  get  good  material  to  work  on,  when  he  has  a 
place  right  at  home  in  which  to  try  his  skill.  Lessons 
on  the  golden  rule  could  be  given  in  every  single  car 
of  every  train  in  the  land  every  day  in  the  week. 
Some  people  have  a  very  nice  way  of  giving  such 
lessons,  and  I  have  often  seen  a  reproof  administered 
in  such  a  manner  that  the  one  reproved  could  never 
forget  it.  The  following  story  shows  how  in  one  case 
this  was  successfully  done: 

A  gentleman,  prominent  in  legal  circles  in  Boston, 
was  recently  riding  in  a  train,  and  in  the  seat  before 
him  was  a  young  and  gayly  dressed  damsel.  The  car 
was  pretty  full,  and  presently  an  elderly  woman  en- 
tered, and  finding  no  seat  vacant  but  the  one  next  to 
the  young  woman  mentioned,  sat  down  beside  her. 
She  was  a  decently  dressed  woman,  but  apparently  of 
humble  station,  and  she  carried  several  clumsy  bun- 
dles, which  were  evidently  a  serious  annoyance  to  her 
seatmate.  The  young  woman  made  no  effort  to  conceal 
her  vexation,  but  in  the  most  conspicuous  manner 
showed  the  passengers  around  that  she  considered  it 
an  impertinent  intrusion  for  the  new  comer  to  presume 
to  sit  down  beside  her. 

In  a  few  moments  the  old  woman,  depositing  her 


HUMAN   NATURE   ON   THE   BAIL.  225 

packages  upon  the  seat,  went  across  the  car  to  speak 
to  an  acquaintance  she  discovered  on  the  opposite  side 
of  the  aisle.  The  lawyer  leaned  forward  to  the 
offended  young  lady  and  courteously  asked  if  she 
would  change  seats  with  him.  A  smile  of  gratified 
vanity  showed  how  pleased  she  was  to  have  attracted 
the  attention  of  so  distinguished  looking  a  gentleman. 

"  Oh,  thank  you  ever  so  much,"  she  said  effusively, 
"  I  should  like  to,  but  it  would  be  as  bad  for  you  as 
for  me  to  sit  beside  such  an  old  woman." 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,'''  the  gentleman  responded 
with  undiminished  deference  of  manner,  "  it  was  not 
your  comfort  I  was  thinking  of,  but  the  old  lady's." 

People  often  try  to  act  like  old  and  experienced 
travelers  and  in  some  small  way  show  they  know  little 
of  life  on  the  railroad  train.  This  is  particularly 
noticeable  in  sleeping-cars.  One  day,  on  my  New 
York  run,  a  man  who  had  evidently  not  been  far  away 
from  his  secluded  home  before,  came  into  my  car  and 
instead  of  turning  to  the  right  to  get  through,  rushed 
straight  ahead  to  the  drawing-room.  When  he  saw 
himself  in  the  mirror,  not  recognizing  his  own  reflec- 
tion, he  reached  for  one  of  the  brass  rods  nailed  across 
the  glass  to  open  the  supposed  door.  At  the  first  pull 
the  door  would  not  budge,  and  seeing  the  other  fellow 
holding  it  from  the  other  side,  he  gave  the  rod  another 
wrench  and  shouted,  "  Open  the  door,  I  tell  you!"  But 
15 


226          FORTY  YEARS  ON  THE  RAIL. 

the  door  did  not  open,  and  lie  was  just  about  to  give 
the  other  man  a  thrashing  when  I  hastened  forward 
and  explained  the  situation  to  him.  As  he  came  out 
of  the  drawing-room  door  he  started  a  roar  of  laughter 
among  the  passengers  by  exclaiming,  "  Well,  he's  a 
hog,  anyhow." 

On  another  occasion  a  passenger  on  his  way  to  iAe 
dining-car  came  out  of  the  day  coach  into  the  ladies' 
end  of  my  car.  Not  quite  understanding  just  how  to 
pass  through,  he  looked  in  the  glass  of  the  toilet-room 
door  and  said  to  his  own  image,  "I  want  my  supper. 
Will  you  please  show  me  the  way  to  the  dining-car?" 

There  was  no  answer,  so  he  shouted  louder,  "  Sup- 
per! I  want  my  supper!  How  can  I  get  to  the  dining- 
car?" 

Still  getting  no  reply,  he  walked  off  indignant  at 
the  insolence  of  the  sleeping-car  attaches,  but  after 
awhile  he  found  his  way  to  the  desired  car. 

It  seems  the  prevailing  disposition  of  the  traveling 
public  to  cheat  railroads  whenever  they  can.  They 
evidently  think  that,  as  corporations  have  no  souls, 
defrauding  them  is  not  a  moral  crime.  Pious  people, 
church  deacons  and  members  who  would  be  horrified 
at  the  idea  of  stealing  a  penny  from  a  neighbor,  seem 
to  have  no  compunctions  of  conscience  about  little 
fraudulent  practices  of  this  kind.  Hundreds  of  such 
people  think  nothing  of  using  limited  tickets  after 


HUMAN   NATURE    ON   THE   RAIL.  227 

they  have  expired,  "also  tickets  and  passes  made  out  to 
other  persons,  or  of  riding  on  family  passes  when  they 
have  no  relationship  to  the  family  for  whom  the  passes 
were  made  out.  Many  cases  have  been  reported  where 
in  punch-tickets  the  bits  of  pasteboard  punched  out 
have  been  saved  and  carefully  glued  in  the  old  places 
so  as  to  be  used  again. 

A  very  common  practice  among  passengers  is  to 
buy  tickets  for  a  station  just  this  side  of  their  desti- 
nation, so  as  to  save  money,  the  conductor  often  not 
noticing  the  fraud. 

One  day  a  man  on  my  train  went  by  the  station  he 
had  paid  for,  but  he  said  he  did  not  care  particularly 
about  that,  and  would  go  on  to  the  next  stopping 
place.  I  mistrusted  that  there  was  something  wrong 
about  the  man,  and  thought  that  perhaps  he  lived  at 
the  next  station.  So  after  having  some  controversy 
with  him  I  concluded  to  put  him  off  the  train.  I 
pulled  the  bell-rope  and  forced  him  off.  When  he  was 
on  the  ground  he  turned  around  to  me  and  said,  with 
an  air  of  triumph,  "  This  is  all  right.  I  live  just  over 
there,"  pointing  to  his  house  across  a  forty-acre  lot. 

In  all  lawsuits  the  same  principle  prevails.  "  Get 
all  you  can  from  a  railway"  is  the  public  motto. 
Many  amusing  incidents  have  come  to  my  knowledge 
which  illustrate  this  human  weakness.  I  remember 
once,  down  East,  a  dog  was  run  over  by  a  locomotive, 


228          FOKTY  YEAKS  ON  THE  RAIL. 

and  the  owner  went  to  the  superintendent  of  the  road 
to  make  his  claim  for  damages. 

"  That,  sir,  was  the  finest  dog  in  the  State,  There's 
nothing  that  dog  didn't  know,  sir.  He  knew  more 
than  half  the  folks.  I  wouldn't  take  a  thousand  dol- 
lars in  hard  cash  for  that  dog  if  he  was  living  to-day." 

"So  your  dog  knew  a  good  deal,  did  he?"  asked 
the  superintendent. 

"  I  tell  you,  sir,  there  wasn't  a  thing  that  dog 
didn't  know  that  I  told  him.  I  wouldn't  take  a  thou- 
sand dollars  for  him  this  minute." 

"If  your  dog  knew  so  much,"  added  the  official, 
"why  didn't  he  have  sense  enough  to  get  off  the  track 
when  the  train  was  coming?" 

The  dog's  master  was  a  Yankee  and  his  quick  wit 
did  not  fail  him  for  more  than  a  second. 

"  You  changed  your  time-table  a  couple  of  days 
ago,  didn't  you?"  he  asked. 

"Yes,"  replied  the  superintendent,  wondering  what 
was  coming  next. 

"  That's  just  it.  I  never  saw  the  new  time-table, 
neither  did  my  dog.  If  you  had  sent  one  around  to 
my  place  the  dog  would  have  been  told  what  time  the 
express  was  due  and  wouldn't  have  been  on  the  track." 

Before  the  Inter-State  Commerce  Bill  became  a 
law  everybody  who  was  at  all  acquainted  with  a  rail- 
road man,  or  could  get  a  pretext  for  asking,  wanted  a 


HUMAN   NATURE   ON   THE   BAIL.  229 

pass.  Hundreds  of  funny  stories  might  be  told  show- 
ing this  side  of  human  nature. 

A  farmer  once  called  on  a  superintendent  and 
asked  for  a  pass.  "  On  what  ground  do  you  expect 
one?"  asked  the  official. 

"I  see  yer  cars  are  runnin'  quite  empty,"  replied 
the  farmer,  "  and  I  thought  you  could  take  me  'long 
as  well  as  not,  there  bein'  so  much  room." 

The  superintendent  explained  that  a  pass  could  not 
be  given  on  those  grounds.  The  farmer  paused  a 
minute  and  then  said: 

"Wall,  now,  Mr.  Superintendent,  if  I  was  a  drivin' 
'long  with  my  wagon  in  the  country,  and  I  had  plenty 
of  room  and  you  was  a  walkin',  and  you  should  ask  me 
to  let  you  ride,  and  I  refused,  you  would  think  I  was 
a  darned  hog,  now  wouldn't  you?  " 

The  superintendent  laughed  heartily  at  the 
granger's  argument,  turned  around  to  his  desk  and 
wrote  him  out  the  desired  paper. 

Officials  with  a  sense  of  the  humorous  often  gave 
laughable,  but  no  less  cutting  rebukes  to  those  who 
applied  for  passes.  The  following  story  is  told  of  a 
general  passenger  agent  in  the  South.  A  gentleman 
came  in,  whom  the  agent  knew  somewhat,  saying: 

"  I  want  to  run  down  your  line,  can  you  help  me 
out?" 

"Where  are  you  going?"  asked  the  railroad  man. 


230          FOKTY  YEARS  ON  THE  BAIL. 

The  gentleman  named  a  station  a  couple  of  hours' 
ride  distant. 

"All  right,"  said  the  agent,  and  then  gave  direc- 
tions to  a  clerk  to  make  out  the  pass. 

"  Thanks.  By  the  way,  I  would  like  to  run  over  to 
Washington  while  down  that  way.  Could  you  fix  me 
over  your  connecting  line?  " 

"No,"  the  agent  answered.  "I  have  none  of  their 
blank  passes;  besides,  you  could  not  ride  on  their 
passenger  trains." 

"Why,  how  is  that?" 

"Well,  you  see,  their  classification  requires  that 
gall  in  large  quantities  shall  be  transported  by 
freight,"  said  the  railroad  man,  and  his  visitor  de- 
parted without  a  smile. 

A  good  joke  on  railway  people  is  always  appre- 
ciated. Everybody  seems  to  enjoy  a  story  in  which 
the  railway  gets  the  worst  of  the  joke.  At  one  time, 
when  Superintendent  Hoxie  was  on  the  Missouri 
Pacific  road  a  tramp  got  aboard  of  the  train,  deter- 
mined to  steal  or  beg  a  ride.  He  told  a  pitiful  story 
to  the  conductor,  but  the  latter  refused  to  let  him  ride 
free. 

"  I  can't  do  it,"  said  the  conductor.  "  Superintend- 
ent Hoxie  is  aboard,  and  he  has  given  strict  orders 
against  free  rides." 

"  I'll  see  Hoxie  myself,"  said  the  tramp,  and  sure 


HUMAN    NATURE    ON    THE    RAIL.  231 

enough  he  did,  but  Mr.  Hoxie  rewarded  his  impudence 
by  having  the  train  stopped  and  the  man  put  off. 

By  climbing  aboard  again  in  some  way  the  tramp 
got  his  ride,  and  when  the  train  stopped  at  the  next 
station,  which  was  quite  a  distance  away,  there  stood 
the  tramp  on  the  platform  as  Mr.  Hoxie  stepped  from 
the  car.  The  superintendent  recognized  the  man  with 
surprise  and  said: 

"How  did  you  get  here?  I  thought  you  were  put 
off." 

The  tramp  with  a  keen  sense  of  humor,  took  hold 
of  Mr.  Hoxie' s  coat  and  drew  him  a  little  aside. 

"Just  step  here,  sir.  I  don't  want  to  give  it  away 
to  the  whole  mob.  I  walked." 

This  remark,  spoken  so  loudly  that  the  whole  crowd 
could  hear,  had  in  it  such  a  reflection  on  the  slowness 
of  the  road's  trains  that  a  roar  of  laughter  followed 
the  tramp  as  he  walked  slowly  away. 

Tramps  are  curious  specimens  of  humanity,  and 
conductors  find  it  hard  to  deal  with  them.  They  show 
an  amount  of  perseverance  that,  if  directed  in  some 
useful  occupation,  would  surely  bring  them  to  the  top 
of  the  ladder.  But,  unfortunately  they  devote  their 
quick  wit  and  their  stick-to-ati veness  to  "  sponging  " 
for  a  living.  When  a  tramp  sets  his  mind  on  anything 
he  is  sure  to  get  it.  Once  while  I  was  on  the  Council 
Bluffs  run  a  conductor  met  with  one  of  the  race  of 


232          FORTY  YEARS  ON  THE  BAIL. 

tramps  who  showed  this  characteristic  to  a  marked 
degree.  At  first  the  fellow  was  put  off  the  train  com- 
paratively gently.  How  a  tramp  gets  on  trains  without 
having  every  bone  in  his  body  broken,  is  one  of  the 
mysteries  the  railroad  service  has  never  solved.  Well, 
the  man  was  once  more  discovered  and  once  more  put 
off,  the  second  time  with  considerable  emphasis  of  the 
conductor's  foot.  After  kicking  the  fellow  from  the 
train  several  times,  and  finally  coming  to  the  conclu- 
sion that  there  was  a  look  in  his  eye  which  said,  "I'll 
fight  it  out  on  this  line  if  it  takes  all  summer,"  the 
conductor  said: 

"Where  are  you  bound  for,  anyhow?" 

"  I'm  going  to  Omaha,  if  your  boot  leaves  enough 
of  the  seat  of  my  pants  for  me  to  get  there  with." 

Such  monumental  perseverance  got  its  reward  at 
last. 

"  Well,  I'm  going  to  Council  Bluffs,"  said  the  con- 
ductor with  a  laugh.  "  I  guess  you've  earned  your  way 
as  far  as  I  go." 

The  unpleasant  side  of  human  nature  is  by  no 
means  the  only  one  shown  by  the  traveling  public. 
Agreeable,  patient,  accommodating  and  generous 
people  do  not  all  stay  at  home,  hiding  their  lights 
under  a  bushel.  There  are  travelers  whom  the  weari- 
ness and  annoyances  of  railroading  do  not  seem  to 
incommode,  and  who  prove  themselves  veritable  Mark 


HUMAN   NATUEE    ON    THE   RAIL.  233 

Tapleys  on  all  occasions.  Like  Mark,  they  seem  re- 
solved "  to  come  out  strong,"  as  lie  phrases  it,  under 
the  most  disadvantageous  circumstances.  On  long 
trips  such  a  person  is  an  invaluable  acquisition  to  any 
train.  He  soon  becomes  authority  on  all  subjects, 
helps  all  parties  to  achieve  something  which,  left  to 
themselves,  they  could  not  possibly  accomplish,  and 
perhaps  would  not  even  dream  of  doing;  is  always 
jovial  and  generous;  is  hail-fellow-well-met  with 
everybody,  gets  into  the  good  graces  of  all  the  ladies 
and  children,  has  a  group  of  men  at  the  end  of  the  car 
or  in  the  smoker  laughing  at  his  jokes,  and  never  fails 
to  join  in  the  laughter  himself  with  a  right  good  will. 

Thousands  of  commercial  travelers  are  on  the  road 
to-day  who  illustrate  every  phase  of  human  nature  at 
its  best.  The  lives  of  train  men  would  be  monotonous 
indeed  if  it  were  not  for  the  genial  spirits  among  the 
passengers.  The  smoking-car  is  the  favorite  resort 
for  the  jolliest  men  on  the  train,  and  as  the  conductor 
passes  along  he  is  always  drawn  into  whatever  fun 
is  going  on,  and  he  has  his  share  of  good  cigars 
every  time. 

In  these  respects  travelers  on  American  railroad 
trains  differ  from  those  of  any  other  country.  The 
Englishman  is  shut  up'  in  a  compartment  car  with  a 
few  others,  and  scarcely  a  word  is  exchanged  by  his 
fellow  passengers.  Introductions  are  necessary  in  that 


234          FORTY  YEARS  ON  THE  RAIL. 

country  before  an  acquaintance  is  begun,  and  the 
Englishman  regards  a  friendly  remark  made  by  a 
stranger  as  an  intrusion,  usually  rewarding  it  by  a 
blank  stare. 

In  this  country  friendliness  of  manner  varies  in 
degree  according  to  the  section  through  which  the 
traveler  passes.  It  is  almost  universally  conceded  that 
people  of  the  East  are  far  more  reserved  than  those  of 
the  West.  It  is  true  that  the  former  are  courteous 
and  accommodating  when  occasions  demand,  but  they 
volunteer  services  or  begin  conversations  far  less  fre- 
quently than  their  Western  cousins.  The  hearty 
"  Wall,  stranger,"  with  which  a  Far  Wester  greets  his 
neighbor  on  the  train,  immediately  does  away  with 
reserve,  and  his  frank  manner  of  telling  his  personal 
history,  that  of  his  family,  also  his  present  and  pos- 
sible business,  dealings,  quite  puts  a  stranger  at  his 
ease  and  makes  him  almost  equally  confidential.  Out 
West  everything  is  done  on  the  broad-gauge  plan. 
The  vast  prairies,  large  rivers  and  lakes  of  the 
region  give  it  a  certain  stamp  that  has  left  an  impress 
on  its  people,  making  insularism  and  narrowness  of 
spirit  an  impossibility. 

The  good  Samaritan  is  often  found  on  the  train, 
ever  ready  by  some  kindly  act  to  benefit  others.  For 
the  sick  she  has  some  simple  home  remedy  in  her 
satchel;  for  the  hungry  she  has  a  sandwich  or  biscuit, 


HUMAN   NATURE    ON    THE    BAIL.  235 

or  some  fruit;  for  tlie  fretful  child  she  provides  enter- 
tainment and  relieves  the  careworn  mother;  for  the 
sorrowing  one,  who  is  on  her  way  to  the  bedside  of  a 
sick  relative,  she  has  a  word  of  comfort;  and  is,  in 
short,  a  general  benefactor.  Many  a  young  girl,  who  is 
alone  on  the  cars  and  is  taking  a  journey  for  the  first 
time  in  her  life,  owes  her  safety  to  such  noble  women. 

In  our  large  cities  ladies  have  organized  societies 
for  the  care  of  young  women  who  come  from  the 
country  or  from  other  towns,  having  placards  posted 
in  the  waiting-rooms  of  depots  requesting  the  friend- 
less who  come  in  on  the  trains  to  go  to  the  homes  pro- 
vided by  the  society  until  they  have  secured  the  situa- 
tions they  desire.  Only  those  who  are  familiar  with 
the  dangers  of  metropolitan  life  can  realize  what  a 
good  work  is  thus  done,  but  when  he  does  realize  it 
he  says  with  all  his  heart,  "Woman — God's  noblest 
gift  to  man — God  bless  her!" 

The  presence  of  children  on  trains  often  calls  out 
the  best  nature  of  travelers,  Large  numbers  of  chil- 
dren travel  alone,  even  for  long  distances.  They  are 
usually  put  in  charge  of  the  conductor  at  their  start- 
ing place,  but  as  officials  change  it  is  impossible  for 
them  to  keep  track  of  these  little  waifs. 

I  once  had  a  small  boy  on  my  train  who  was  bound 
for  some  distant  Western  state,  having  come  all  the 
way  from  New  England  alone.  He  had  lost  both 


236  FORTY    YEAltS    ON    THE    BAIL. 

parents,  and  friends  had  started  the  child  off  to  an 
uncle  living  on  the  Pacific  slope.  The  little  fellow  had 
a  tag  tied  to  a  button-hole  of  his  coat,  on  which  was 
written  his  own  name  and  the  name  and  address  of 
his  uncle.  It  was  a  long  and  venturesome  journey  for 
one  so  young;  but  the  child  was  too  innocent  and 
unworldly  to  think  of  danger,  and  he  made  himself 
quite  at  home,  chatting  with  all  who  spoke  to  him. 
He  made  friends  everywhere  by  his  many  winning 
ways,  and  was  as  carefully  looked  after  by  train 
officials  and  passengers  as  he  could  have  been  had  he 
been  accompanied  by  any  of  his  relatives.  Kind  ladies 
saw  that  he  was  kept  clean  and  had  his  hair  brushed. 
The  daintiest  contents  of  many  lunch  baskets  were 
given  him,  and  he  was  amused  in  every  possible  way 
by  first  one  passenger  and  then  another.  We  were 
all  sorry  to  have  him  leave  us  when  we  reached  the 
end  of  my  run.  The  child  was  carefully  placed  on 
another  train  by  a  kind  gentleman,  and  he  probably 
reached  his  destination  without  a  mishap  of  any  kind, 
though  I  have  never  heard  of  him  since. 

Once  a  brother  conductor,  on  making  his  round 
through  his  train  after  leaving  a  small  station,  found, 
curled  up  in  an  end  seat,  a  little  flaxen-haired  boy 
who  was  sound  asleep.  The  child  had  evidently  been 
crying,  as  tear-stains  were  on  his  chubby,  dirty  face. 
His  long  curls  were  in  a  tangled  mass,  and  his  clothes, 


HUMAN    NATURE    ON    THE    RAIL.  237 

though  of  the  best  quality,  were  soiled  and  torn.  One 
hand  tightly  grasped  a  toy  sheep,  whose  wool  showed 
hard  usage,  and  the  other  hand  rested  under  the  tired 
head. 

The  conductor  gently  touched  the  child  and  the 
little  fellow  woke  up. 

"Where  are  you  going,  my  boy?"  asked  the 
official,  in  a  kindly  voice. 

"  Going  to  see  mamma,"  replied  the  child,  rubbing 
his  eyes  wide  open  and  hugging  the  toy  sheep  closer 
to  him. 

"  Where  is  your  mamma?  " 

"  Gone  off  on  cars  with  papa." 

"Where  do  you  live?" 

"  Up  on  the  hill." 

"Is  anybody  at  home  with  you?  " 

"  Just  Mary,  and  she's  cross  and  whips  me." 

Here  an  angry  look  came  into  the  little  face  and 
the  wool  of  the  toy  sheep  was  firmly  grasped  by  the 
baby  fingers. 

"When  will  your  mamma  come  back?"  continued 
the  official,  anxious  to  get  some  clue  that  would  help 
him  to  return  the  stray  child  to  his  friends. 

"  Don't  know.  Papa  put  her  in  a  big  box  and 
carried  her  off  on  the  cars,  and  Mary  says  mamma  will 
never  come  back.  But  I'm  going  to  find  mamma  my 
own  self  and  bring  her  home.  I  know  she'll  come  if 
I  ask  her." 


238  FORTY   YEARS   ON   THE   RAIL. 

The  truth  flashed  across  the  conductor's  mind; 
here  was  a  child  whose  mother  had  died,  and  whose 
father  had  been  obliged  to  leave  him  to  the  care  of  a 
servant  while  he  took  the  dead  body  of  his  wife  away 
for  burial.  Not  knowing  what  else  to  do,  the  official 
told  the  little  one  to  lie  down  and  go  to  sleep  again 
and  he  would  try  to  find  papa  for  him. 

At  the  next  station  a  telegram  was  received 
describing  the  child,  and  asking  to  have  him  put  on 
the  return  train  at  the  next  stopping  place. 

In  my  day  I  have  known  many  brave  and  chival- 
rous deeds  done  by  travelers  of  the  railroad,  scarcely 
a  day  passing  that  did  not  bring  something  of  the 
kind  under  my  observation.  When  a  conductor  is  on 
the  same  run  for  a  long  time,  his  passengers  become 
his  personal  friends,  and  he  knows  their  family  griefs 
and  joys  and  everything  else  that  interests  them.  He 
sees  little  children  grow  into  young  men  and  maidens, 
and  often  watches  the  progress  of  romances  that  lead 
to  wedding  bells.  Men  form  life-long  friendships 
from  casual  meetings  on  the  road,  and  many  a  little 
act  of  kindness  has  reaped  a  rich  harvest  after  long 
years. 

I  remember  once,  when  on  the  run  between  Council 
Bluffs  and  Chicago,  we  were  delayed  a  long  time  by 
snow.  One  of  the  day-coach  passengers  was  a  man 
who  was  taking  the  dead  body  of  his  wife  to  the  East 


HUMAN   NATURE    ON    THE    RAIL.  239 

for  burial.  He  had  several  little  children  with  him, 
and  our  long  stops  had  used  up  his  last  cent.  I 
explained  to  the  passengers  the  poor  fellow's  sad  lot 
and  passed  the  hat.  Bills  and  silver  rained  into  the 
improvised  cash  box,  and  when  I  had  gone  through 
the  train  I  found  nearly  thirty-six  dollars  had  been 
deposited  in  the  hat.  As  I  put  the  money  into  the 
man's  hand,  tears  streamed  down  his  cheeks  and  he 
could  hardly  find  words  to  thank  the  donors  for  their 
generosity. 

At  another  time,  when  my  train  was  delayed  and 
was  three  days  and  nights  in  getting  to  Chicago,  an 
old  lady  about  seventy  years  of  age  was  in  my  car. 
H.  Lee  Borden,  of  Elgin,  Illinois,  was  also  aboard. 
Mr.  Borden  is  well  known  for  his  generosity  and 
benevolence  wherever  he  goes,  and  to  him  many  a 
poor  family  is  indebted  for  tons  of  coal  and  large 
supplies  of  provisions.  He  saw  the  old  lady  eating 
a  little  lunch  from  a  basket  she  had  with  her,  and 
then  quietly  drew  me  aside  saying: 

"  Captain,  take  that  lady  into  the  dining-car  for 
all  her  meals,  and  I  will  settle  the  bills." 

The  old  lady  enjoyed  her  fine  meals  hugely,  and 
never  knew  whom  she  owed  for  the  favor. 

After  all,  it  is  in  the  presence  of  sorrow,  or  in 
times  of  danger  that  human  nature  is  shown  in  its 
true  light.  A  long  train  starts  out  from  the  station, 


240          FOKTY  YEAKS  ON  THE  RAIL. 

crowded  with  passengers,  rich  and  poor,  good  and  bad. 
Perhaps  a  long  run  will  be  made,  and  little  will  occur 
to  show  the  individual  traits  of  this  great  multitude, 
except  here  and  there  a  stray  incident  such  as  those  I 
have  already  mentioned.  But  let  an  accident  occur, 
be  it  ever  so  slight,  or  a  panic  be  caused,  and,  as  if  by 
magic,  a  veil  seems  drawn  from  every  soul  and  its 
innate  characteristics  will  come  to  light. 

Listening  to  the  numberless  stories  of  experiences 
told  by  survivors  of  a  great  railroad  disaster,  and 
those  who  first  go  to  render  them  assistance,  one 
hardly  knows  whether  to  admire  most  the  heroic  deeds 
of  some,  or  despise  the  despicable  acts  of  others. 
There  are  heroes,  such  as  one  looks  for  only  on  battle- 
fields, in  that  terrible  hour,  and  there  are  also  some 
wretches  for  whom  hanging  would  be  far  from 
adequate  punishment.  One  is  glad  to  turn  from  the 
stories  of  the  latter  to  dwell  only  on  the  deeds  of  the 
former.  The  engineer  has  acted  nobly,  and  doubtless 
has  given  his  life  in  his  efforts  to  save  his  train.  The 
officials  have  died  with  him,  or  are  working  with 
might  and  main  to  alleviate  the  suffering  of  the  pas- 
sengers. Men  have  died  in  agony  to  save  wife  or 
child;  the  mother  has  shielded  her  babe  to  the  last 
and  closed  her  eyes  in  death,  happy  that  the  little  one 
is  unharmed;  delicately  nurtured  girls  cast  aside  all 
timidity  and  go  to  and  fro  among  the  dying  and  the 


HUMAN   NATURE    ON   THE   RAIL.  241 

suffering,  ministering  to  each  with  the  heroism  of  a 
Florence  Nightingale.  Even  the  bootblack,  who  had 
been  "  sneakin'  a  ride  under  de  trucks,"  when  he 
finds  he  can  do  nothing  for  his  pal  who  has  been 
killed  outright,  manages  to  rescue  a  little  baby  from 
danger  into  which  it  has  fallen,  and  through  the 
horrors  of  that  night  he  soothes  it  in  his  arms  and 
watches  it  as  tenderly  as  a  mother  till  the  dawn 
enables  him  to  carry  it  to  a  place  of  safety.  Men  and 
women  alike  set  aside  all  thoughts  of  hunger,  fatigue 
or  exhaustion,  to  give  untiring  assistance  to  the  suf- 
ferers, till  the  last  one  is  aided  and  the  last  body  has 
been  taken  from  the  wrecked  train,  tenderly  wrapped 
in  a  shroud  and  sent  afar  to  the  desolate  home  that 
awaits  it.  Wealth  and  position  know  naught  of  pre- 
cedence here;  those  who  suffer  and  those  who  help 
are  alike  in  the  presence  of  death. 


16 


CHAPTER  XII. 

RAILROADING    OF    TO-DAY. 

Shortly  after  I  had  left  the  Chicago  and  North- 
Western  railway  I  had  a  peculiar  dream.  I  fancied 
I  was  at  the  Lake  Shore  and  Michigan  Southern 
depot,  where  stood  a  magnificent  train  of  coaches 
mounted  in  burnished  gold  that  glistened  and  sparkled 
in  the  bright  light  with  dazzling  splendor.  As  I  stood 
admiring  the  brilliant  spectacle,  John  C.  Gault,  who  I 
thought  had  been  appointed  superintendent,  came 
along  swinging  a  gold  lantern  in  his  hand. 

"  Hello,  Captain,"  he  greeted  me,  "  you're  just  the 
man  I've  been  looking  for." 

"  What's  up?"  I  asked.  "Anything  I  can  do  for 
you?" 

"  Yes;  run  this  train  out." 

"  I  can't  do  that,  Mr.  Gault,"  I  answered,  looking 
at  the  gorgeous  coaches  through  whose  windows  could 
be  seen  a  large  number  of  passengers.  "  I  don't  know 
the  road." 

"  Nonsense,"    he  retorted  with    some   impatience, 

"  you  must  take  it  out." 

242 


RAILROADING    OF    TO-DAY.  243 

So  I  went  forward  to  the  engine,  which  was  trim- 
med with  gold  to  match  the  coaches,  and  when  the 
time  was  up  I  gave  the  signal  and  off  we  started.  But 
we  did  not  go  far,  for  when  I  commenced  to  collect 
the  tickets  and  saw  there  was  not  a  single  cash  fare  in 
the  train  of  seven  cars  it  surprised  me  so  much  that  I 
woke  up. 

The  cars  of  my  dream  came  forcibly  to  my  mind 
not  many  weeks  ago,  when  I  saw  the  vestibule  Pull- 
man train  ready  to  start  from  the  Pittsburgh  and  Fort 
Wayne  depot  in  Chicago.  The  cars  of  this  train  have 
their  platforms  enclosed  with  heavy,  highly  polished 
hard  wood  and  glass  doors,  thus  forming  a  continuous 
passage  from  end  to  end  of  the  train,  and  enabling 
passengers  to  go  from  one  car  to  another  without 
being  exposed  to  the  cold  of  winter,  the  unpleasant- 
ness of  rain  or  snow-storms,  or  to  dust,  smoke  and 
cinders.  These  cars  represent  the  perfection  of  the 
car-builders1  art,  being,  in  beauty  of  finish  and  in  their 
elegance,  finer  than  anything  before  put  on  the  rail  for 
public  use. 

On  this  vestibule  train  are  all  the  luxuries  and  con- 
veniences a  millionaire  could  desire  at  home.  The 
different  cars  provide  for  him  dining-room,  parlor, 
bedroom,  barber-shop,  dressing,  smoking  and  reading 
rooms,  while  his  table  is  supplied  with  all  the  delica- 
cies of  the  season  from  a  well  appointed  kitchen, 


244  FORTY  YEARS  ON  THE  RAIL. 

larder,  and  wine-cellar.  Of  such  a  modern  wonder  as 
this  it  has  been  well  said:  "  Monarchs  of  old  had 
their  castles  distributed  at  different  parts  of  their 
vast  domains,  so  that  they  need  not  forego  the  luxu- 
ries of  life  while  visiting  any  portion  of  their  empires. 
It  remained  for  the  American  to  put  the  palace  on 
wheels  and  furnish  the  transit  of  royalty  or  of  citizen- 
kings  and  princes  with  luxury  at  every  mile." 

It  seems  as  if  nothing  will  ever  be  made  more 
nearly  like  the  train  of  which  I  dreamed,  and  as  I 
stood  looking  at  this  recent  triumph  of  car-building  I 
could  not  help  going  back  in  my  thoughts  to  the  little 
cabless  engine  and  sawed-off  cars  of  my  boyhood 
days. 

Railroading  has  not  reached  its  present  high  state 
of  excellence  by  a  sudden  bound.  Ever  since  I  began 
-on  the  road  improvements  have  been  steadily  going 
on,  and  while  it  would  be  impossible  to  make  mention 
of  all,  I  cannot  refrain  from  speaking  of  a  few  ways 
in  which  progress  has  been  made. 

Perhaps  the  locomotive  has  in  itself  more  evidences 
of  the  wonderful  onward  march  in  railroading  of  the 
past  forty  years  than  anything  else  connected  with  the 
service.  Man's  genius  seems  materialized  in  the 
"  iron  horse,"  and  no  one  can  look  upon  a  locomotive 
of  to-day  without  having  a  feeling  come  over  him  that 
is  akin  to  awe.  It  would  be  impossible  for  me  to  give 


RAILROADING    OF    TO-DAY.  245 

even  the  briefest  description  of  the  improvements 
made  in  my  day  within  the  limits  of  these  pages,  so 
many  have  there  been.  Whether  art  and  science  will 
produce  greater  triumphs  in  this  direction  remains  to 
be  seen,  but  it  certainly  seems  as  if  they  can  go  no 
farther. 

When  Miller  introduced  the  platform,  coupling  and 
spring  buffer  that  go  by  his  name,  a  great  step  was 
taken  in  advance  in  railroading.  By  these  inventions 
the  dangers  of  hand  coupling  are  done  away  with, 
telescoping  has  become  almost  unknown,  and  the  lia- 
bility to  derailment  is  greatly  lessened. 

In  1869  George  Westinghouse  patented  his  atmos- 
pheric air-brake,  which  is  now  generally  used  in  this 
country.  Each  car  has  beneath  its  floor  a  cylinder 
and  piston;  this  piston  acts  on  levers  and  rods  to  set 
the  brakes  against  the  wheels,  the  brakes  being  con- 
nected with  the  ordinary  braking  apparatus  at"  the 
platforms  of  the  cars.  Compressed  air  is  conveyed  to 
the  cylinder  by  tubes  leading  from  a  reservoir  or  air- 
pump  at  the  locomotive,  the  engineer  or  fireman  send- 
ing the  air  to  the  cylinders  by  simply  turning  a  valve - 
handle. 

The  application  of  electricity  to  railroading  has 
been  of  untold  advantage,  and  its  possibilities  are 
infinite.  It  has  already  given  us  electric  signals  and 
has  provided  for  us  the  invaluable  work  of  the  train- 


246          FORTY  YEARS  ON  THE  RAIL. 

dispatcher  and  telegraph,  operator,  who,  by  its  assist- 
ance, direct  the  movements  of  a  multitude  of  trains 
on  a  vast  network  of  roads. 

Track-laying  is  now  what  in  the  early  days  was 
never  dreamed  of.  In  the  olden  time,  rails  battered  so 
much  that  it  was  necessary  to  have  blacksmith  shops 
at  intervals  on  the  road  to  mend  them.  About  eighteen 

o 

years  ago  the  fish-plate  came  into  use,  which  makes  a 
continuous  rail,  decreasing  the  wear  and  tear  on  ac- 
count of  the  smoothness  of  the  track.  Steel  rails  are 
no  longer  an  innovation,  and  steel  sleepers  are  proving 
a  happy  experiment. 

Very  decided  improvements  in  passenger-cars  are 
being  introduced  on  some  of  the  principal  roads. 
Their  simplicity  is  always  desired,  as  in  the  decrease 
of  dead  weight  to  the  paying  weight  a  great  source  of 
saving  is  found  in  operation.  An  improvement  in  the 
lighter  weight  of  moving  trains  will  be  another  step 
forward.  Railway  men  complain  of  the  weight  of 
passenger-cars  as  they  are  now  built,  and  show  by 
figures  that  an  engine  hauls  between  five  and  six 
pounds  of  dead  weight  for  every  one  pound  of  paying 
passenger  weight,  reckoned  when  all  the  seats  are 
filled. 

The  paper  car-wheel  may  be  mentioned  as  one  of 
the  greatest  inventions  of  these  later  days.  It  was 
given  to  the  world  by  B/ichard  Norton  Allen,  of  whom 


RAILROADING    OF    TO-DAY.  247 

I  have  spoken  in  previous  pages,  and  the  great  works 
of  the  Allen  Car- Wheel  Company  at  Pullman,  Illinois, 
form  one  of  the  most  interesting  features  of  that  city. 
There  the  visitor  may  see  the  circular  pieces  of  paper 
used  in  the  manufacture  of  each  wheel  put  under  a 
pressure  of  a  ton  and  a  half  to  the  square  inch. 
These  wheels  are  considered  by  most  people  much 
safer  than  any  others  in  use,  as  they  do  not  shrink 
or  spring  under  climatic  changes,  and  sustain  sudden 
jars  better  than  the  old  style  of  wheel.  Thousands  of 
travelers  select  routes  on  which  the  Allen  wheel  is 
used,  in  preference  to  any  others. 

The  handling  of  freight  and  cattle  is  now  done  with 
ease  and  dispatch,  and  refrigerator-cars  have  done 
away  with  all  the  old  difficulties  in  transporting  per- 
ishable articles.  .  Several  patents  have  been  taken  out 
on  these  cars,  and  have  been  used  with  great  success. 
Of  these  I  know  best  what  is  known  as  the  "•  Tiffany  " 
car.  In  this,  insulation  is  accomplished  with  two  dead 
air-chambers  lined  with  felt  paper.  The  car  has  a  V- 
shaped  tank  overhead,  running  from  end  to  end,  also 
two  end  tanks  which  receive  the  drip  water  from  that 
above,  and  also  hold  ice  for  use  when  extra  refrigera- 
tion is  wanted.  Each  car  holds  about  forty-five  hun- 
dred pounds  of  ice,  and  is  kept  at  the  uniform  tempera- 
ture of  thirty-five  degrees  all  the  year  around,  being 
made  to  withstand  the  cold  of  winter  as  well  as  the 


248          FORTY  YEARS  ON  THE  HAIL. 

heat  of  summer.  Eefrigerator-cars  have  revolution- 
ized the  shipping  of  food  stuffs.  They  have  brought 
the  cattle  ranches  of  Texas  to  the  doors  of  New  York; 
have  poured  the  tropical  fruits  of  Florida  and  Cali- 
fornia in  profusion  upon  the  tables  of  the  North;  in 
short,  they  have  made  the  whole  nation  one  in  the 
matter  of  eating,  and  given  to  the  poor  man  what  a 
decade  or  two  ago  was  only  found  in  the  homes  of  the 
wealthy. 

Smoking,  buffet,  drawing-room,  boudoir,  dining  and 
sleeping  cars  have  all  been  added  to  meet  the  needs 
and  tastes  of  this  enterprising  age.  As  early  as  1856 
a  mechanic  by  the  name  of  Woodruff  constructed  the 
first  sleeping-car  ever  made.  The  coach  had  seats  for 
sixty  passengers,  and  at  night  these  seats  were  changed 
into  flat  berths.  Webster  Wagner,  in  1858,  designed 
and  built  four  sleeping-cars  for  the  New  York  Central 
road,  and  in  1867  made  his  first  palace  car.  Wood- 
ruff, who  afterward  received  royalty  from  both  Wagner 
and  Pullman  for  infringement  on  his  patent,  died 
worth  a  large  fortune.  Wagner  also  became  very  rich. 
He  was  killed  while  traveling  in  one  of  his  own  cars 
by  a  railway  accident  at  Spuyten  Duyvil,  in  1882. 

But  for  the  modern  luxuries  of  travel  the  world  is 
most  indebted  to  George  M  Pullman  and  his  brother, 
A.  B.  Pullman.  The  latter  was  superintendent  and 
also  a  conductor  on  their  cars  when  they  were  first 


RAILROADING    OF    TO-DAY.  249 

made,  afterward  becoming  general  superintendent, 
then  vice-president  and  chief  of  construction. 

In  1859  the  Pullmans  fitted  up  two  ordinary 
passenger  coaches  of  the  Chicago  and  Alton  road  for 
sleeping  purposes.  In  1863  they  began  building  their 
palace  cars,  and  assigned  one  called  the  "Pioneer"  to 
the  Alton  road,  and  another  to  the  Chicago  and 
North- Western,  naming  the  second  "  The  City  of 
Dubuque."  These  cars  excited  a  great  deal  of  inter- 
est, and  though  considered  by  many  a  foolish  extrav- 
agance, the  managers  of  the  Michigan  Central,  the 
Chicago,  Burlington  and  Quincy,  and  the  Great 
Western  of  Canada  soon  made  contracts  with  Mr. 
Pullman  for  the  placing  of  his  sleeping  cars  on  their 
roads. 

The  Pullman  Palace  Car  Company  was  organized 
in  1867.  I  think  the  first  dining-car  in  the  country 
was  run  on  the  Chicago  and  North-Western  railway  to 
San  Francisco,  in  1869,  with  the  well-known  H.  M. 
Kinsley,  of  Chicago,  as  caterer. 

In  May,  1880,  the  famous  town  of  Pullman,  ten 
miles  south  of  Chicago,  was  founded.  There  are 
located  the  vast  shops  of  the  company,  in  which  are 
made  cars  of  every  description,  and  there  also  are  the 
Allen  Car  Wheel  Works.  Perhaps  no  one  thing  in  the 
world  can  give  a  better  idea  of  what  railroad  interests 
have  done  and  can  do  than  this  model  city.  It  was 


250          FORTY  YEARS  ON  THE  RAIL. 

founded  for  making  railroad  cars,  was  built  by  money 
made  from  railroads,  and  is  filled  with  a  thriving 
population  earning  support  in  railroad  industry. 
Seven  years  ago  the  bare  and  open  prairie  existed 
where  the  city  of  Pullman  now  stands.  "Skilled 
architects,  landscape  gardeners,  civil  engineers,  and 
trained  artisans,"  says  an  anonymous  writer,  "with  the 
best  machinery  within  the  power  of  man's  ingenuity 
to  make,  together  with  the  lavish  expenditure  of 
money,  have  brought  into  being  a  large  city,  filled 
with  thousands  of  prosperous  people,  and  complete  in 
all  that  constitutes  city  life  in  the  advanced  state  of 
civilization  of  the  nineteenth  century. 

"  In  this  town,  which  has  been  dedicated  to  the 
work  of  mechanics,  the  higher  nature  of  man  has  not 
been  forgotten.  Utility  and  beauty  have  here  been  so 
combined  that  the  workingmen  may  acquire  that  taste 
for  the  beautiful  and  orderly  that  makes  their  lives 
brighter  and  happier.  The  car  works  themselves  are 
most  attractive.  They  are  built  in  the  round-arched 
Gothic  style  of  architecture,  and  are  sufficiently  varied 
to  prevent  monotony.  The  ornamentation  is  not 
lavish,  but  is  exceedingly  tasteful.  The  homes  of  the 
employees  have  a  very  pleasing  appearance.  They 
are  chiefly  of  the  Queen  Anne  style,  variously  modi- 
fied. Of  course  some  are  more  pretentious  than 
others.  There  are  large,  elegant  houses  for  the  super- 


RAILROADING    OF    TO-DAY.  251 

intendent  and  other  officials.  Those  of  a  second  order 
are  for  the  highest  classes  of  artisans,  and  there  are 
still  others  more  modest  in  appearance,  besides  great 
flats  capable  of  accommodating  several  families.  But 
no  matter  what  may  be  the  size  and  for  what  class 
they  are  intended,  all  are  attractive  and  have  the  same 
pleasant  environments.  Evergreens  and  a  variety  of 
trees  and  shrubs  abound.  The  streets  are  well  graded 
and  paved,  and  are  bounded  with  beautiful  lawns.  In 
season,  foliage  plants  and  flowers  are  found  in  great 
profusion.  In  front  of  the  shops  is  the  artificial  lake 
with  its  grassy  banks,  upon  which  are  disposed  many 
urns  filled  with  tropical  plants.  Here  the  eye  may 
find  delight  in  beautiful  colors  and  in  watching  the 
sunbeams  dance  upon  the  water;  the  ear  may  catch 
the  splash  of  the  fountain  and  the  melody  of  birds." 

Among  the  many  improvements  of  these  later  days 
of  railroading  must  not  be  forgotten  the  adoption  of 
the  so-called  standard  time.  When  railroads  were 
chiefly  east  of  the  Mississippi,  no  special  notice  was 
taken  of  the  inconvenience  caused  by  different  stand- 
ards, but  as  soon  as  great  lines  branched  out  west, 
northwest,  and  southwest  towards  the  Pacific  Ocean, 
this  diversity  became  not  only  a  source  of  annoyance, 
but  of  danger.  There  were  at  least  fifty-three  stand- 
ards in  use  by  the  different  railroads  of  the  country, 
and  it  often  happened  that  into  a  single  city,  which 


252  FORTY  YEAKS  ON  THE  HAIL. 

was  a  converging  point  for  ten  or  a  dozen  different 
roads,  nearly  as  many  different  standards  were  in  use 
by  these  lines.  In  going  from  New  England  to  Wash- 
ington six  standards  were  observed.  In  1883,  the 
system  planned  by  W.  R  Allen  came  into  use,  by 
which  the  whole  of  the  United  States  was  divided  into 
four  great  sections,  and  we  now  have  only  "  Eastern," 
"Central,"  "Mountain,"  and  "Western"  time,  the 
change  from  one  to  the  other  being  an  hour,  and  from 
the  Atlantic  to  the  Pacific  Ocean  the  difference  of 
time  being  four  hours.  Railroad  men  are  contem- 
plating doing  away  with  another  old  fashion,  and 
having  clocks  number  the  hours  from  one  to  twenty- 
four,  abolishing  the  A.  M.  and  P.  M.  method,  which 
makes  time  tables  very  confusing  in  long  runs.  The 
Canadian  Pacific  road  adopted  the  twenty-four  hour 
system  from  the  very  first. 

Another  improvement  in  modern  railroading  is  the 
railway  mail  service.  For  this  the  public  is  chiefly 
indebted  to  George  B.  Armstrong,  who  located  in 
Chicago  in  1854.  At  the  breaking  out  of  the  war  he 
was  appointed  assistant  postmaster,  and  in  1862  was 
called  by  President  Lincoln  to  go  to  Cairo,  Illinois,  to 
find  the  best  way  of  forwarding  a  vast  accumulation  of 
war  mail  matter,  amounting  to  thousands  of  tons. 
This  he  accomplished  in  so  short  a  time  that  his  ser- 
vices were  publicly  acknowledged.  While  at  Cairo 


RAILROADING    OF    TO-DAY.  253 

Mr.  Armstrong  conceived  the  idea  that  a  letter  could 
travel  with  the  same  speed  as  an  individual.  For  two 
years  he  revolved  the  scheme  in  his  mind  before  ven- 
turing to  put  it  to  a  practical  test.  In  1864,  he  got 
permission  from  the  government  to  equip  a  car  and 
try  the  experiment,  but  as  no  appropriation  was  made 
by  Congress  to  defray  the  cost,  Mr.  Armstrong,  rather 
than  give  up  the  project,  fitted  up  a  car  at  his  own 
expense.  The  service  proved  a  success,  and  from  this 
small  beginning  the  system  has  grown  to  its  present 
magnitude,  extending  from  ocean  to  ocean,  covering 
all  lines  of  rail,  employing  thousands  of  postal  clerks, 
who  distribute  daily  thousands  of  tons  of  mail  matter, 
in  cars  running  from  twenty  to  forty  miles  an  hour 
day  and  night,  securing  to  all  mail  matter  the  same 
rapidity  of  transit  that  can  be  attained  by  the  indi- 
vidual. 

In  another  chapter  I  have  spoken  of  the  tickets  in 
use  in  the  early  days  of  railroading.  It  would  be 
impossible  to  give  an  account  of  the  improvements  in 
this  respect  within  the  limits  of  this  book,  for  this 
subject  alone  would  fill  a  volume.  About  the  middle 
of  the  century  there  was  a  marked  change  in  the  style 
of  tickets  and  a  heavy  increase  in  the  number  issued. 
It  was  to  General  Ticket  Agent  Marshall,  of  the  Lake 
Shore  railroad,  that  the  idea  of  coupon  tickets,  reading 
from  point  of  departure  to  destination,  first  occurred. 


254  FORTY    YEARS   ON   THE   RAIL. 

Mr.  Marshall  sent  out  a  circular  to  the  head  officials 
of  other  roads  inviting  them  to  a  meeting,  at  which 
he  explained  the  workings  of  the  proposed  system. 

"  Yes,  that  may  be  a  good  plan,"  said  one  official, 
"  but  the  agent  of  the  road  selling  the  ticket  would 
get  all  the  money  for  the  whole  distance  traveled. 
How  is  it  to  be  divided?" 

"  That's  so,"  said  another  official,  "  and  suppose 
we  change  our  rates,  what  then?  " 

"My  plan,"  said  Mr.  Marshall,  "  is  to  have  a  book 
to  be  called  the  division  book  kept  by  each  company, 
in  which  all  amounts  due  to  other  roads  can  be 
entered,  together  with  the  number  of  tickets  sold,  etc. 
At  the  end  of  the  month  a  statement  can  be  made 
from  each  of  the  roads  to  the  other,  so  that  they  can 
see  just  how  they  stand,  and  if  one  road  has  sold  more 
tickets  over  another  road  than  the  other  road  has  sold 
over  it,  the  balance  can  be  paid  to  the  company  to 
which  it  is  due.  It  is  a  very  simple  matter." 

The  plan  was  adopted  and  is  in  existence  to  this 
day,  with  some  modifications  as  to  detail.  Before  its 
adoption  the  office  of  ticket  auditor  of  a  railroad  was  a 
sinecure.  Now  it  is  one  of  the  most  important  parts 
of  the  machinery  of  a  well-conducted  road,  with  a  host 
of  clerks  and  a  library  of  figures.  When  a  modern 
railway  passenger  asks  for  a  ticket  over  a  certain 
route  comprising  half  a  dozen  roads,  he  takes  but  little 


RAILBOADING   OF   TO-DAY.  255 

thought,  if  indeed  he  has  any  idea  of  the  careful  pre- 
arrangement  which  permits  of  his  being  supplied  with 
a  single  ticket  reading  to  his  point  of  destination,  no 
matter  whether  it  is  in  Maine  or  Florida,  Oregon  or 
Arizona.  The  movements  of  the  ticket  agent  and  his 
manipulation  of  the  ticket  stamps  and  punches, 
together  with  the  detachment  of  coupons  and  the 
addition  of  "pasters,"  are  a  complete  mystery  to  the 
majority  of  travelers,  even  to  this  day  when  everybody 
knows  everybody's  business. 

Mileage  tickets,  as  they  are  called  in  railroad 
phraseology,  have  been  issued  in  many  different  forms, 
each  ticket  usually  entitling  the  purchaser  to  travel 
one  thousand  miles  over  the  railroad  by  which  it  is 
issued.  The  old  style  of  one  thousand  mile  tickets 
was  simply  a  piece  of  bristol-board,  on  which  appeared 
first  the  name  of  the  railroad  company,  then  the  date  of 
issue,  and  the  name  of  the  person  by  whom  the  ticket 
was  to  be  used,  followed  the  figure  representing  the 
mileage.  When  a  passenger  presented  his  ticket  for 
passage,  the  conductor  punched  enough  of  the  figures 
to  make  up  the  full  distance  from  starting  point  to 
destination. 

There  were  sometimes  a  row  of  halves  at  the  top  of 
the  table,  but  as  a  rule,  where  the  passenger  rode  only 
a  half  mile,  the  conductor  canceled  a  figure  represent- 
ing a  mile,  and  if  he  rode  five-and-a-half  miles,  six 


256          FORTY  YEARS  ON  THE  RAIL. 

were  canceled,  the  difference  always  being  in  favor  of 
the  company  by  whom  the  mileage  ticket  was  sold  or 
presented.  One  thousand  mile  tickets  were  formerly 
used  chiefly  by  shippers  and  commercial  travelers,  to 
whom  they  were  sold  at  a  reduced  rate.  Some  of  the 
less  liberal  railways  gave  them  to  members  of  State 
legislatures  instead  of  annual  passes,  the  mileage 
tickets  generally  being  more  limited  as  to  time.  Many 
roads,  however,  placed  no  limit  on  the  time  in  which 
the  ticket  was  good  for  passage. 

The  first  book-mileage  ticket  ever  used  in  this 
country  was  the  invention  of  Ben  Patrick,  chief  clerk 
in  the  office  of  Ben  Hitchcock,  general  passenger 
agent  of  the  Chicago,  Burlington  and  Quincy  railroad, 
about  eight  years  ago.  Patrick's  ticket  differed  some- 
what in  style  from  that  now  in  use,  but  it  answered 
the  same  purpose. 

Formerly  all  employees  above  the  position  of  ordi- 
nary day  laborers  were  given  annual  passes.  Now, 
however,  only  trip  passes  are  given,  except  in  the 
case  of  the  higher  grades  of  clerks  and  the  smaller 
officials.  The  heads  of  departments  not  only  get 
annual  passes  over  their  own  line,  but  every  year 
receive  from  all  the  railroads  of  the  United  States 
complimentary  annual  tickets.  The  giving  of  passes 
by  one  railroad  to  all  the  head  officials  of  the  others 
necessitates  in  itself  the  printing  of  large  numbers  of 


KAILKOADING    OF    TO-DAY.  257 

passes,  but  this  was  only  a  small  item  of  the  list  until 
the  Inter-State  law  came  into  existence.  It  is  said 
that  some  of  the  eastern  roads  annually  gave  out 
twenty-five  thousand  free  passes.  The  Union  Pacific, 
according  to  the  statement  of  its  president,  four  years 
ago  gave  out  "  free  transportation  "  to  the  amount  of 
twenty-five  hundred  dollars  a  day.  This  was,  of 
course,  computing  each  free  passenger  at  full  rates. 

What  soured  the  milk  of  human  kindness  with 
respect  to  the  issuance  of  free  passes  more  than  any- 
thing, was  the  sale  of  them  by  their  holders  to  scalpers 
and  others.  Then,  too,  though  passes  were  always 
marked  "not  transferable,"  it  often  happened  that 
the  same  pass  was  used  by  a  dozen  different  persons. 

Land-grants  may  be  considered  among  the  institu- 
tions that  have  been  a  prodigious  power  in  railroading 
since  the  middle  of  the  century.  The  number  of  rail- 
road land  grants  has  been  very  large;  some  were 
given  by  charter  to  States,  some  to  corporations — none 
to  individuals 

It  is  estimated  that  there  have  been  given  to  rail- 
way corporations,  mainly  for  the  construction  of  trans- 
continental lines,  one  hundred  and  thirty-five  millon 
acres.  These  grants  were  at  no  time  a  party  issue. 

The  first  land-grant  made  by  the  United  States 
government  was  of  a  million  acres  to  the  Mobile  and 
Ohio  road  in  1848. 


258         .  FORTY  YEARS  ON  THE  RAIL. 

In  1851,  the  first  land-grant  charter  was  issued  to 
the  Illinois  Central  Railroad  Company. 

In  1853,  Congress  passed  an  act  authorizing  a 
survey  for  a  trans-continental  line.  The  State  of 
Maine  granted  the  first  charter  for  the  building  of  a 
railroad  to  the  Pacific  coast;  but  it  was  found  that  a 
State  charter  was  not  potent  enough,  so  the  sanction 
of  the  general  government  was  asked.  In  July,  1864, 
Congress  gave  the  great  Pacific  roads  their  first  land- 
grant. 

This  liberality  of  the  United  States  government 
toward  the  railroads  and  the  unexampled  prosperity 
of  our  nation  during  the  years  since  the  war,  have 
resulted  in  an  extension  of  roads  such  as  can  be 
seen  nowhere  else  in  the  world. 

On  the  first  day  of  January,  1832,  there  were  nine- 
teen railroads  in  this  country,  either  completed  or  in 
process  of  construction.  In  1840  the  average  yearly 
building  was  about  five  hundred  miles;  in  1850  it  had 
increased  to  fifteen  hundred  miles;  in  1860  to  nearly 
ten  thousand;  and  in  1871  it  was  stated  that  railroad 
enterprises  requiring  an  outlay  of  $800,000,000  and 
involving  the  construction  of  twenty  thousand  miles  of 
road,  were  in  actual  process  of  being  carried  out. 

No  comprehensive  figures  of  railway  business  are 
attainable  previous  to  1871.  In  that  year  the  total 
capital  invested  (stock  and  bonds)  was  stated  to 


RAILROADING    OF    TO-DAY.  259 

amount  to  $2,664,627,645,  and  forty-four  thousand, 
six  hundred  and  fourteen  miles  were  operated.  In 
1880  the  capital  invested,  including  funded  debt,  was 
estimated  at  $4,897,401,997,  and  eighty-four  thousand, 
two  hundred  and  twenty-five  miles  were  operated. 

The  "Eailway  Age"  estimates  that  over  sixty-four 
hundred  miles  of  new  track  have  been  laid  the  present 
year,  during  the  eight  months  ending  September  1st — 
a  record  never  before  equaled  except  in  1882,  when 
seven  thousand  miles  of  road  were  constructed  during 
the  same  period. 

The  "Age"  says  it  is  probable  the  total  for  1887 
will  reach  twelve  thousand  miles,  and  surpass  that  of 
1882 — eleven  thousand,  five  hundred  and  sixty-eight 
miles — now  the  largest  on  record. 

What  will  be  the  record  of  the  year  1890  it  is 
hardly  possible  to  foretell,  but  judging  from  the  work 
being  done  to-day  the  close  of  the  present  decade  will 
show  statistics  that  will  surprise  even  the  most  san- 
guine believer  in  the  century's  progress. 

The  public  mind  has  been  so  .busy  in  carrying  out 
the  great  projects  of  these  later  days  that  it  has  not 
had  time  to  consider  many  of  the  problems  in  law  and 
equity  springing  out  of  our  marvelous  progress. 
People  have  scarcely  realized,  until  a  comparatively 
recent  date,  that  railroading  needed  any  governmental 
regulation.  At  present  no  question  occupies  more 


260          FORTY  YEARS  ON  THE  RAIL. 

generally  the  national  thought.     It  may  be  regarded, 
in  fact,  as  the  problem  of  to-day. 

Undoubtedly  no  act  of  Congress  has  ever  called 
out  such  diverse  interpretation,  or  undertaken  to  con- 
trol interests  of  such  vast  extent,  as  the  Inter-State 
Commerce  law  which  went  into  effect  on  April  5,  1887. 

The  subject  of  national  regulation  of  common  car- 
riers took  definite  form  in  1886,  in  the  passage  by  the 
Senate  of  the  Cullom  bill.  The  House  refused  to 
concur  in  .this  bill,  but  passed  what  is  known  as  the 
Eeagan  bill.  The  Senate  failing  to  concur,  a  confer- 
ence committee  was  appointed  by  each  body,  and  the 
result  was  the  law  as  it  now  stands. 

The  different  sections  of  the  bill  relate  to  unjust 
discriminations,  providing  equal  facilities,  long  and 
short  hauls,  pools,  rates  and  their  publication,  con- 
tinuous carriage,  liability  of  carriers,  action  for  dam- 
ages, penalties  for  violation,  the  appointment  of  a 
commission;  and  it  further  details  the  duties  and 
power  of  that  commission. 

"  The  complexities  and  difficulties  of  governmental 
administration  of  railway  rates,"  says  George  R. 
Blanchard,  commissioner  of  the  Central  Traffic  Asso- 
ciation, "  are  greater  in  the  United  States  than  in  any 
other  country.  This  is  caused  by  its  greater  area, 
larger  railway  mileage,  longer  coast  lines,  more 
numerous  navigable  lakes  and  rivers,  diversities  of 


KAILBOADING    OF   TO-DAY.  261 

soil,  climate  and  products,  differences  between  rates 
on  high  mountain  gradient  and  level  lines,  the 
rapidity  of  traffic  development,  our  desire  to  grasp 
foreign  markets,  the  crudities  and  dissimilarities  of 
railway  charters  and  legislation,  the  proximities  of 
foreign  governments  and  carriers,  and  the  anomalies 
and  contrarieties  of  state  and  national  authority  within 
and  across  non-physical  lines. 

"  It  has  taken  half  a  century  in  insular  and  parlia- 
mentary England  to  reach  its  present  legal  stage  there, 
and  it  is  still  incomplete  and  unsatisfactory.  How 
much  more  difficult  here!  " 

The  work  of  the  railroad  commission  is  still  in  an 
embryonic  condition,  but  it  is  not  to  be  expected  that 
questions  of  such  vast  importance  can  be  dealt  with  in 
a  brief  space  of  time.  Let  the  pessimist  and  the 
grumbler  look  back  over  the  history  of  our  country 
and  note  the  difficulties  with  which  we  have  coped  and 
the  triumphs  we  have  met  in  every  epoch  of  our  career. 
Surely  we  have  no  reason  to  fear  that  failure  awaits  us 
in  this  new  work  as  our  ultimate  reward. 

These  pages  contain  only  a  brief  survey  of  the 
important  epoch  in  railroading  covered  by  the  last 
forty  years,  as  it  has  come  under  my  observation.  It 
often  seems  to  me  as  I  look  back  that  the  world  will 
never  again  see  such  an  age,  yet  I  know  that  we  live 


262          FORTY  YEARS  ON  THE  RAIL. 

in  a  time  of  wonders,  and  it  may  be  that  another 
generation  will  see  fulfilled  what  are  only  dreams  with 
us,  and  the  advancement  of  the  last  four  decades  may 
be  the  herald  that  ushers  in  grander  progress  in  every 
line  of  work  and  thought. 


2  54.1 o 3 


..U.iC.-..P.!!?.K.?LEY  LIBRARIES 


C0311E7fl77 


